
PRESENTED BY 



SSKorbs of Comfort 



WORDS OF COMFORT^** 



PARENTS BEREAVED 

of 

LITTLE CHILDREN. 



EDITED BY 

WILLIAM LOGAN, 

Author of " The Moral Statistics of Glasgow," &c. 



WITH AN INTRODUCTORY HISTORICAL SKETCH, 

BY TIIE 

REV. WILLIAM ANDERSON, LL.D., GLASGOW. 
FOURTH EDITION, ENLARGED .-11th THOUSAND. 



LONDON: 
JAMES NISBET & CO., BERBERS STREET. 
1867. 



"I am the Resurrection and the Life."-Jo1hi xi 25. 

« IS IT WELL WITH THE CHILD ? It IS WELL,' -2 KingS iv. 26. 

' 1 Even so,-it is not the will or your Father which i^in h^v ZXf 

THAT ONE OF THESE LITTLE ONES SHOULD PERISH."- XVUL ^ 

"Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. "-Matt. xix. 14. 

« It is Sown in Weakness, it is Raised in Power."-1 Cor. xv. 43. 

"THE LORD GAVE, AND THE LORD HATH TAKEN AWAY j BLESSED BE THE 
NAME OF THE LORD." — Job L 21. 

"They died, for Adam sinned : They live, foe Jesus wed. -RoBtssos. 
"Not Lost, but Gone Before -The almost Christian sentiment of the 
great heathen moralist, Seneca.-D. M. MoiR ("Delta. ) 



Gift 
Mr. johnHyde 
MAR 1 6 1G25 



TO 

WILLIAM ANDERSON, LL.D., 

WHOSE FRIENDSHIP HE HAS ENJOYED FOR NEARLY 
FORTY" YEARS, 

BY WHOSE MINISTERIAL TEACHING, IN 1330, HE GREATLY 
PROFITED, 

AND TO WHOM, UNDER DIVINE PROVIDENCE, 
HE TRACES CHIEFLY WHAT LITTLE HE HAS SINCE BEEN ENABLED 
TO DO FOR THE WELFARE OF THE HUMAN FAMILY, 

IS, WITH MUCH RESPECT, 
AFFECTIONATELY AND GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED BY 



WILLIAM LOGAN. 



PBEFATOEY NOTICE. 



In issuing the third — and probably the last — edition 
of "Words of Comfort," it may not be out of 
place to refer briefly to the origin and history of the 
Book. 

After the death of the little girl — a notice of whose 
brief life is given — letters of sympathy were exten* 
sively received by us from friends whose acquaintance I 
had made in various parts of the country, in my char- 
acter as a Town and City Missionary, which had a very 
soothing effect on the heart. The opening words in 
the first of these — "It is well with Sophia" — seemed 
as if they came direct from that "happy land" to 
which she had just gone! Other letters, of a like 
consolatory nature, followed; and after repeated perusal, 
these tokens of affection and friendship were for a 
time laid tenderly and carefully aside. By and 
by, the thought suggested itself that many were in 
similar circumstances of bereavement who were not 
favoured with such "Words of Comfort;" and, under 
the influence of this idea, I was led, somewhat 
hesitatingly, to transcribe a few passages from the 
letters, and send them to a Christian friend, the 
Editor of a public journal, with a view to insertion. 
After appearing anonymously in that publication, 



V'lll 



PREFATORY NOTICE. 



they were re-printed as a four-paged tract, and sent 
chiefly to personal friends, by whom they were much 
appreciated. The Rev. Hamilton M. Macgill, Glasgow, 
Home Mission Secretary to the United Presbyterian 
Church, quoted the principal part of the tract into the 
Juvenile Missionary Magazine of that body, of which he 
is Editor; and the Rev. Dr. Guthrie, Edinburgh, in a 
note, remarked, "I have read the 'Words of Comfort' 
with much interest. You did well to scatter them 
abroad." These and similar testimonies encouraged 
me to investigate the literature of the subject, and the 
result was the publication, early in 1857, of a tractate* 
extending to 72 pages, containing extracts from the 
letters, with selections from different authors, arranged 
much as in the present edition. The book was favour- 
ably spoken of by the press and different well-known 
writers, one of whom — the late Rev. Dr. John Brown 
of Edinburgh— observed, "I think the little book fitted 
to be very useful. Its fragmentary character is better 
fitted for the mourner than a long continuous discussion." 

These notices, and especially the opinion thus ex- 
pressed by Dr. Brown, as to the utility of such a 
compilation, induced me still further to prosecute 
my researches, with the object of adding to the 
interest and value of the collection — a labour in 
which I took a melancholy pleasure, and which 
engaged my attention more or less for nearly four 
years. As the fruit of these labours, there appeared 
in May, 1861, the second edition of "Words of 
Comfort for Parents Bereaved of Little Children," 



PREFATORY NOTICE. 



ix 



a book of about 400 pages, arranged on the plan of 
the previous publication. The volume met with a 
far more friendly reception than I had anticipated. 
It was welcomed far and near, and by none perhaps, 
in various countries where ib circulated, was it more 
warmly received than by those engaged as Missionaries 
to the heathen; especially those of them who had been 
bereaved, and who, amid the darkness and superstition 
surrounding them, felt in a peculiar manner the 
cheering influence of the Gospel light reflected from 
its pages. The book was also noticed in the most 
friendly terms by various sections of the British press. 

The present edition has been considerably enlarged ; 
the letters have been abridged ; several pieces which 
appeared in the previous publication have been 
omitted, and their place supplied with others which 
are considered of more general interest; the Intro- 
ductory Historical Sketch, by Dr. Anderson, has been 
greatly extended; and the volume is again enriched 
by original contributions, some of them by writers of 
distinction. 

I feel deeply indebted to the authors and publishers 
of the works from which I have quoted, who, saving 
the American poets, with whom there has not been an 
opportunity of corresponding, have, without exception, 
and with the utmost readiness and cordiality, permitted 
me to re-produce their consolatory contributions in the 
present volume. The original pieces in poetry and 
prose, from esteemed friends, have been marked by an 
asterisk. 



X 



PREFATORY NOTICE. 



The Rev. Dr. Godwin remarks, in one of the short 
letters, that the feelings which* parents experience when 
bereaved of their little ones, become "mellowed and 
softened by the lenient hand of time." However true 
the observation thus beautifully expressed, and not- 
withstanding the interval of years which has elapsed 
since I was thus tried, I have yet felt it no easy task — 
at times a very painful one, through excited remem- 
brances — -to superintend these sheets as they passed 
through the press. My work is now done, and it is 
with mingled feelings that I part from the mournfully- 
pleasant, self-imposed task! 

These " Words of Comfort" are again sent forth 
with the earnest desire that they may indeed prove, 
to those who have been bereaved, a message of com- 
fort from Him who said — " Suffer the little children 
to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is 

the Kingdom of Heaven!" 

J J W. L. 

IS Abbotsford Place, 
Glasgow, May 1st, 1S67. 

NOTE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. 
In issuing another impression of "Words of Com- 
fort," the Editor tenders his grateful acknowledgments 
to the public and the press for the continued favour 
accorded to the volume. Opportunity has been taken 
to revise a portion of its contents, and to make one or 
two additions which, it is believed, will still further 
increase its value. 

Glasgow, November, 1867. 



CIRCULATION OF "WORDS OF COMFORT 
AMONG MISSIONARIES. 



In sending forth the present Missionaries' Edition of 
" Words of Comfort," I think it due to the generous 
friends concerned, as well as interesting to the Mission- 
aries, to make the following statement regarding the 
circumstances under which it has "been issued. 

In the Spring of 1866 I received a letter from my 
esteemed friend the Eev. Dr. George Turxer, of 
Samoa, South Seas, dated November, I860, in which, 
referring to the Third Edition of "Words of Cox- 
fort," he very unexpectedly wrote in the following 
terms respecting the circulation of the volume amongst 
Missionaries labouring in foreign lands :— 

"It has been repeatedly impressed on my niind that your 
"Words of Comfort" are singularly adapted to the isolated 
homes of Foreign Missionaries. The copies which you gene- 
rously sent to the Pacific have, in numbers of instances, been 
comforting beyond description to God's children in seasons of 
bereavement. I have already given you instances in which 
heart-stricken mothers, far away from the society and sympa- 
thy of beloved friends, have, for days and weeks together, 
hardly read anything but the Bible and "Words of Comfort." 
I wish that some generous friends of Missions would unite 
and send a copy to the family of every Missionary in the 
world. But I must give more than a wish. So convinced am 
I of the importance of such a scheme, that I now enclose an 
order for two guineas to set the thing agoing, if it has not 
actually occurred to any one. Let this small sum please be 
expended on copies to be sent, say, to as many of the agents 
of the London Missionary Society in India as the amount will 
procure. And may God incline many more to do what thev 
can in this good work !" 



1 



missionaries' edition. 



I first mentioned the subject to Titus Salt. Esq.. 
of Methley Park, Bradford, who, with Ms characteris- 
tic generosity, informed me in a note that he would 
" gladly." assist in carrying ont Dr. Turner g sugges- 
tion; and, in a commnnication of July 22nd, said, "I 
■will be glad to supply the 200 agents of the London 
Missionary Society with a copy each of 'Words of 

Ck>MPOBT.' M 

I wrote to the Rev. Dr. Mullens, Foreign Secretarv 
to the London Missionary S:ciety ; 'and Eev. De. 
Sommerville, Foreign Secretary to the Missions of the 
United Presbyterian Church. 

The Rev. Dr. Mullens, London, observed— 
'•'Your book is an admirable one, and its numerous extracts 
from many authors furnish excellent illustrations of the many 
phases of human sorrow, and of the many modes in which 
Divine comfort may reach the mourning heart. Dr. Turner s 
experience is the experience of all our Missionary brethren ; 
hard trial — Divine support ; and I am sure that our brethren 
would accept with great pleasure, and . use to their great 
profit the copies of the work which it is suggested should 
be forwarded to them. Including our native brethren who 



The Rev. Dr. Sommerville, Edinburgh, remarked — 

"The idea of Dr. Turner is a good one — namely, that it is a 
book fitted to be very useful to bereaved Foreign Missionaries, 
and there are few in the foreign field, especially in tropical 
climes, who have families, that do not belong to this class. 
Such climates are unfavourable to children, and the death of 
infants is there a frequent occurrence, and it is felt to be a 
severe affliction. The parents are far from home ; there are 
few around them with whom, in a domestic sense, they can 
sympathise; the affections are therefore drawn out more warmly 
between those that compose the family circle; and when death 
enters and snatches away a little one, the very light and love 
of the foreign home seem to be extinguished.'' 

J. H. Young. Esq.. Glasgow, responded in the fol- 



missionaries' edition. 

lowing generous terms in favour of the Mission families 
of the United Presbyterian Church : — 

"It will give me great pleasure to pay for as many copies 
as may be needed to supply each of the Mission families, 
including native Agents and Teachers, connected wilh the 
Foreign Missions of our Church (United Presbyterian), the 
Kev. Dr. Sommerville forwarding the same, with such instruc- 
tions as he may think desirable or necessary, and debiting me 
with any expense that may be incurred, besides the price of 
the work itself." 

I likewise addressed a note to the Pev. Dr. Duff, 
Edinburgh, Foreign Secretary to the Missions of the 
Free Church of Scotland, who, in reply, wrote as fol- 
lows, ordering, at the same time, 25 copies of the book 
for the object referred to : — 

"I do very cordially approve of Dr. Turner's suggestion. 
I think the work entitled ' Words of Comfort ' admirably 
fitted to minister comfort and consolation to bereaved families, 
whether at home or abroad." 

Three friends ordered 120 copies, 65 of which have 
been placed at the disposal of the Pev. Dr. Duff. 

The Pev. Dr. Norman Macleod, Glasgow, ordered 
a few copies for Missionary brethren. 

A gentleman in Glasgow, well known for his libe- 
rality, ordered 50 copies for the Missionaries of the 
Church of Scotland, part of which have been placed 
in the hands of the Pev. Dr. Norman Macleod. 

The Pev. John Kay, Castle-Douglas, Secretary to 
the Foreign Missions of the Peformed Presbyterian 
Church, ordered copies for the Missionaries of that 
denomination. 

Joseph Tritton, Esq., London, Treasurer to the 
Baptist Missions, ordered 20 copies for the agents of 
that Society ; Henry Kelsall, Esq., Pochdale, ordered 
30 copies; and the Pev. J. P. Chown, Bradford, 13 
copies, for the same benevolent object. 



missionaries' edition. 



The Rev. Chaeles Garrett, Wesleyan Minister, 
Manchester, referred, in the following cordial terms, to 
Dr. Turner's suggestion: — 

"I will very gladly arrange to send a copy to every 
Wesleyan Minister who may be called to lose a child. The 
Secretaries of our Missionary Society heartily sympathise 
with the proposal, and will kindly forward the books to those 
for whom they are designed. If you will send 100 copies to 
the Wesleyan Mission House, Eishopgate Street, Within, Lon- 
don, I shall be glad. " 

William Armitage, Esq., Manchester, ordered 120 
copies for the agents of the Manchester City Mission. 

Alderman" Browx, Bradford, presented each of 
the agents of the Town Mission there with a copy of 
the book. 

Wm. G. Mitchell, Esq., Glasgow, has ordered 60 
copies for the rise of the Agents of the Glasgow City 
Mission. 

Mrs. Craigie, Falcon Hall, Edinburgh, presented a 
copy to each of the 24 agents of the Edinburgh City 
Mission. 

Three gentlemen, well known for their benevolence, 
presented 200 ministers of the United Presbyterian 
Church with a copy of the book. 

A benevolent gentleman presented each of the Mini- 
sters of the Evangelical Union with a copy of "Words 
of Comfort." 

Oliver Ormerod, Esq., Rochdale, ordered 12 copies 
for Ministers of the United Methodist Free Churches. 

It only remains to be added that the above friends 
who have so generously presented copies of " "Words 
of Comfort " to the agents of the various Home and 
Foreign Missionary Societies, and others, were supplied 
at the cost of paper, printing, and binding. — W. L. 



IS Abbotsford Place, Glasgow, November, 1867. 



CONTRIBUTORS. 



INFANT SALVATION. 
Contributions by Authors marked thus * are original. 

PAGE 

Introductory Historical Sketch — Eev. Dr. William 



Anderson, 15-40 

Brief Notice of a Short Life, - - - ~ - - 41-46 

Letters, - - 47-56 

Eev. Dr. Anderson, Glasgow, 57 

*Bev. Dr. James Morison, Glasgow, 66 

*Kev. George Gilfillan, Dundee, 72 

Eev. Dr. David Eussell, Dundee, - . . 84 

*Eev. Dr. Ealph Wardlaw, Glasgow, 89 

*Eev. Dr. Alex. Macleod, Birkenhead, - - - 94 
Extract from "The Greyson Correspondence," Edited 

by Prof. Eogers, Author of 1 6 The Eclipse of Faith, " 97 

Eev. Dr. John Cumming, London, - - - - 99 

Eev. William Bathgate, Kilmarnock, - 101 

Eev. Dr. John Morison, London, - - - - 105 

Eev. Dr. John Brown, Edinburgh, .... IQQ 

Eev. Dr. Adam Thomson, Coldstream, - - 108 

*Eev. Dr. Joseph Brown, Glasgow, - 109 

*Eev. Dr. Alexander Wallace, Glasgow, - - - 111 

*Eev. Henry Batchelor, Glasgow, - - - 113 

Eev. John Bruce, Liverpool, 115 

Eev. Dr. Edward Steane, London, - - - - 117 

Eev. Alexander Cuthbert, A.M., Glasgow, - - - 118 

*Eev. William Fraser, Alloa, - - - - - 119 

Eev. Alexander B. Grosart, Liverpool, - - - 122 

A 



xii 



CONTRIBUTORS. 



PAGE 

Rev. Philip Bennett Power, M. A., Abbey Wood, Kent, 124 

Rev. Samuel Rutherford, St. Andrews, - - - 125 

Rev. James Hervey, A.M., Northampton, - » - 127 

Rev. Dr. John Macfarlane, London, - 128 

Rev. Dr. George Turner, Samoa, - 130 

Rev. Dr. Anderson, Glasgow, 131 

Rev. Robert Scott, Canada, 132 

Rev. Dr. Chalmers, Edinburgh, 132 

Rev. Dr. Lawson, Selkirk, 133 

Charters, - 133 

Jeremy Taylor, - 133 

Rev. John Newton, 134 

Rev. Dr. John Pye Smith, London, - 134 

CONSOLATION. 

Rev. Dr. John Macfarlane, London, - - - - 135 

Rev. Dr. John Brown, Edinburgh, - 144 

John Brown, M.D., Edinburgh, 153 

Rev. Dr. William Anderson, Glasgow, - - - 154 

Rev. Dr. Chalmers, Edinburgh, - - - - - 162 

*Rev. Prof. Islay Burns, D.D., Glasgow, - 164 

Rev. Thomas Binney, London, - - - • 169 
Extract from " The Greyson Correspondence," Edited 

by Professor Rogers, - - - - - - 176 

Rev. Edward Irving, London, 182 

*Rev. Dr. John Bruce, Newmilns, Ayrshire, - - 190 

*Rev. George C. Hutton, Paisley, 197 

*Rev. Wm. M. Taylor, A.M., Liverpool, - 201 

*Rev. John Kay, Castle-Douglas, - 204 

*Rev. J. P. Chown, Bradford, ----- 208 

David Pae, Edinburgh, 210 

*Rev. Gilbert M'Callum, Dewsbury, - 215 

*Rev. William Blair, A.M., Dunblane, - 217 

*Rev. David Russell, Dunfermline, - 222 

*Mrs. Janet Hamilton, Langloan, Coatbridge, - - 226 



CONTRIBUTORS. xiii 

PAGE 

*Rev. Robert Niven, Maryhill, Glasgow, - - - 229 

'""Rev. John Guthrie, A.M., Glasgow, - - - 231 

*Rev. George Gilfillan, Dundee, 236 

*Rev. Professor M 'Michael, D.D., Dunfermline, - 239 

Rev. Dr. David Russell, Dundee, - 241 

Rev Dr. John Gumming, London, - 242 

Rev. William Bathgate, Kilmarnock, - 243 

Rev. Dr. Alexander Fletcher, London, - - - 245 

Rev. Dr. Alexander Waugh, London, - - 250 

Rev. J. Baldwin Brown, B. A., London, - - - 253 

Rev. Dr. John Gumming, London, .... 255 

Rev. Dr. Thomas Guthrie, Edinburgh, - - 259 

Rev. Dr. Octavius Winslow, Bath, - - - - 261 

Rev. Philip Bennett Power, M.A., Kent, - - - 266 

Rev. Prof. Eadie, D.D., LL. D. , Glasgow, - 269 

Rev. Dr. Norman Macleod, Glasgow, - - - 272 

Rev. R. H. Lundie, M.A., Liverpool, - - - 274 

Rev. Dr. Sommerville, Edinburgh, .... 279 

Rev. Dr. George Lawson, Selkirk, - 282 

Rev. Dr. Adam Thomson, Coldstream, - - 288 

Rev. Dr. David Russell, Dundee, .... 290 

Rev. George Gilfillan, Dundee, ----- 293 

Rev. Dr. John Morison, London, - 296 

Rev. John Jameson, Methven, Perthshire, - - 298, 301 
Rev. Professor Eadie, D.D., LL.D., Glasgow, - 303, 305 

Rev. Dr. Charles J. Vaughan, Vicar of Doncaster, - 308 

Jeremy Taylor, 310, 311 

Matthew Henry, - 313 

Rev. John Newton, - 317 

Rev. Ebenezer Erskine, Stirling, 318 

Rev. Thomas Boston, Ettrick, - 320 

Rev. Dr. J. R. M 'Gavin, Dundee, - 322 

Rev. Richard Knill, Chester, 325 

Rev. Dr. Steane, London, - - 328 

Rev. H. T. Howat, Liverpool, - - - - - - 329 



xiv 



CONTRIBUTORS. 



William B. Bradbury, - 

*Bev. Henry Allon, London, 

*Eev. Charles Garrett, Manchester, - 

Eev. Bobert Hall, Bristol, - 

The Flower Plucked by the Master, - 

Rev. Peter Mearns, Coldstream, - 

Eev. Dr. Doddridge, - 

Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, 

Eev. Dr. E. Winter Hamilton, Leeds, 

Archbishop Leighton, Dunblane, - 

Eev. Eichard Cecil, - 

Eev. John Flavel, - * 

" Fanny Fern," - 

Rev. John Albert Bengel, - 

William Wilberforce, - 

Helen Plumptre, - 

Eev. Dr. Wardlaw, Glasgow, 

MaryHowitt, 

Elliot, - - - 

D. M. Moir, (" Delta"), Musselburgh, 



POETEY. 



D. M. Moir ("Delta"), 
William Wordsworth, 
Alfred. Tennyson, Poet -Laureate, 
James Hedderwick, Glasgow, - 
Eev. Walter C. Smith, M. A., Glasgow, 
Eev. W. B. Eobertson, Irvine, - 
*Bev. W. B. Eobertson, Irvine, 
Thomas Aird, Dumfries, - 
Samuel Taylor Coleridge, - 
Professor John Wilson, Edinburgh, - 



357, 361, 365, 
370, 
373, 374, 



386, 



366 
372 
375 
376 
380 
383 
385 
387 
387 
388 



CONTEIBUTORS. 



XV 



PAGE 

John Milton, 391 

Paul Gerhardt, Germany, 393 

Dante, - 396 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, - - - 397, 398 
Alaric A. Watts, ------- 399 

James Montgomery, 403 

Kobert Nicoll, 435, 407 

Mary Howitt, - - - 409 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, - - - - 410, 413 

Mrs. Hemans, 415 

Gerald Massey, 417,420,422 

J. StanyanBigg, - - 423 

Alexander Smith, Edinburgh, ----- 425 

David Wingate, - 423 

James D. Burns, M.A., 427 

Mrs. Augusta Webster, 429 

Bev. Dr. John Macfarlane, London, - 430 
*Bev. Henry Batchelor, Glasgow, - 432 
John Young, Glasgow, - - - - - 433 

*Mrs. Janet Hamilton, Langloan, - - - 434, 438 
Mrs. Janet Hamilton, Langloan, - - - 437, 438 
*Mrs. David Henderson, Glasgow, - 438 
Mrs. David Henderson, Glasgow, - - - - 440 
* William T. M'Auslane, Glasgow, - - - - 440 
*Wflliam Freeland, Glasgow, - 441, 442 

*Bobert Gillespie, Falkirk, 443 

Eev. John Anderson, Helensburgh, - 444 
James Macf arlan, Glasgow, ----- 445 
Selected from " Household Words," 446 
Selected from < 'Household Words," - - - 448 

Theodore Martin, 448 
Selected from ' 1 London Beview," - 450 

John Moultrie, - 451 

Mrs. Emily C. Judson, - - - - - 454 

Selected Poem : " The Lambs Safely Folded," - - 456 



Xvi CONTRIBUTORS. 

PAGE 

John Pierpont, 459 

Rev. Thomas Rawson Taylor, Bradford. - - - 461 

H. D. Munson, 463 

David Raeside, Saltcoats, 464 

Selected from "Blackwood's Magazine,*' - - - 466 
James Edmeston, Homerton, London, - - 468, 470 

Rev. Dr. Ralph "Wardlaw, Glasgow. - 472 

John Critchley Prince, Lancashire, - 475 

Rev. Richard Cecil, 476 

Mrs. A. Stnart Monteith, 477 

Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, .... 480, 481 

John Gr. WMttier, 4S2 

Mediaeval Hymn,. - 483 

Meinholcl, -484 

M. C. S., in "Christian Treasury." 485 

*Rev. Dr. Alex. Wallace, Glasgow, - 487 

Robert Pollok, -------- 4SS 

Robert Burns, - - - - - - 48S 

Charles Wesley, - - - - - 489 

Ralph Erskine, -------- 489 

Epitaphs — 

Robert Robinson, - - 490 

William Cowper, ------- 490 

Thomas Aird, - - - - - - - 490 

William Shakespeare, 490 

Mrs. Hemans, - 491 

Hartley Coleridge, ------- 491 

R. B. Sheridan, - 491 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, - - 492 

Samuel Wesley, ------- 492 



INDEX. 



PAGE 

A Mother Congratulated on the Death of her Child, 

Henry Rogers, Author of " The Eclipse of Faith," 176 
A Touching Scene— Death of Willie, Dr. John Mac- 

farlane, - - 140 

A Word to Irreligious Parents, Dr. Russell, - - 241 

Address at the Interment of a Child, Rev. J. P. Chown, 208 

Angel Charlie, Mrs. Emily C. Judson, - - - 454 

Angel and the Infant, The, Theodore Martin, » - 448 

Angel's Song, The, James D. Burns, M.A., - 427 

Appeal to Parents, Rev. Wm. Bathgate, - - - 243 

Babe Christabel, Gerald Massey, - . - 420 
Bereaved Parents Comforted, Rev. Wm. M. Taylor, M.A., 201 

Bereaved Parents, Considerations for, Dr. Russell, - 290 

Better to be with Christ, Dr. Doddridge, - - - 343 

Brief Notice of a Short Life, 41-45 

Bright Exchange, The, Rev. P. E. Power, M. A. , - 266 

Broken Circle, The, James Edmeston, - - - 470 

Buds of Beauty, Rev. Robert Hall, - 341 

Budding Rose, The, Mrs. Janet Hamilton, - - - 436 

Cafrrarian Chief Converted by the Death of his Child, 

Rev. R. Xiven, 229 

Casa Wappy, D. M. Moir (" Delta"), - - - 357 

Casa's Dirge, D. M. Moir (" Delta"), - - - 365 

Celestial Choristers, ------- 354 

Child in Heaven, The, Mary Howitt, - 409 

Child's Angel, The, Rev. W. B. Robertson, - - 383 



XVI11 



IXDEX. 



PAGE 

Child's Grave, - 445 

Child's Grave at Florence, E. Barrett Browning, - 413 

Children " God's Heritage," - - - - - 332 

Children Before the Throne, Eev. Thomas Boston, - 320 

Children of the Heathen, Eev. G. M'Callum, - - 215 

Christmas Carol, 445 

Christian Mother's Dirge, A, Dr. Wardlaw, - - 472 
Closing Scene of a Lovely Childhood, Eev. Geo. Gilfillan, 293 

Coleridge, Berkeley and Florence, Samuel T. Coleridge, 387 

Comforting the Afflicted, Jeremy Taylor, - - - 310 

Compassion, Human and Divine, Dr. Wardlaw, - - 355 

Crocus, The, Mrs. H. Beecher St owe, - - - - 481 

Crown of Life, The, Eev. Eichard Cecil, - - - 349 
Crown without the Conflict, The, Eev. E. H. Lundie, 

M.A., 274 

Dante's Vision, 393 

David Mourning over his Child, Dr. John Brown, - 147 

Dead Baised Up, How are the, &c, Dr. Islay Burns, - 164 

Death of a Beloved Child, Dr. George Lawson, - - 282 

Departed Nigh, The, Eev. W. B. Robertson, - - 385 

Dewdrops, The Child and the, John Critchley Prince, 475 

Dr. Kitto's Youngest Child, Death of, Dr. John Eadie, 269 

Dirge for a Baby, William Freeland, - 442 

Dissuasives from Excessive Grief, Dr. Win. Anderson, 154 
Divine Beneficence in the Death of Children, Rev. Thos. 

Binney, 169 

Dying Child, The, Dr. A. Fletcher, - 245 

Dying Infant, The, Rev. Richard Cecil, - - - 476 

Dying Mother and her Child, Robert Pollok, - - 488 

Early Removal of Children a Proof of Divine Goodness, 

Eev. G. C. Hutton, 197 

Earthly Comforts a Trust— Not a Gift, Eev. John 

Newton, - 313 



INDEX. XIX 

PAGE 

Edward Irving's Home Circle — the First Link Broken, 182 

Elegiac Stanzas, D. M. Moir (" Delta"), - - - 366 
Enlarged Intelligence of a Glorified Infant, Dr. Alex. 

Fletcher, - - - - - - - 247 

Enoch Arden, Alfred Tennyson, 375 

Epitaphs, written by — 

Aird, Thomas, 490 

Coleridge, Hartley, 491 

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 492 

Cowper, William, - - - - - 490 

Hemans, Mrs., 491 

Robinson, Robert, 490 

Shakespeare, Yfilliain, 490 

Sheridan, R. B., - - '- - - - - 491 

Wesley, Samuel, 492 

Eva, John G-. Whittier, ------ 482 

Fadeless Crown, The, Rev. John Anderson, - - 444 

Fairest Flower, The, John Milton, - 391 
Father Consoling his Bereaved Daughter, A, Rev. John 

Jameson, - 301 

Father's Dream, A, Rev. Thomas Rawson Taylor, • 461 

First-born, Death of, Alaric A. Watts, - - - 399 

First Family Funeral, The, Dr. John Macfarlane, - 143 

Flavel on the Loss of Children, 350 

Flower Plucked by the Master, The, - 341 

Flower Transplanted, Robert Burns, - 488 

Flowers of Paradise, The, Dr. Guthrie, - 259 

Gentle Shepherd and the Lamb, The, Meinhold, - 484 

Germs of Tin -mortality, Dr. John Cumming, - - 255 

" Go thy way, thy Son Liveth," Rev. John Jameson, 298 

God Present with the Departed, Dr. Wm. Anderson, 158 



God's Relationship to Children, Rev. John Guthrie, M. A., 231 



J. 



XX 



INDEX. 



Gone to Bliss, James Macfarlan, - 

Gone to Sleep, Archbishop Leighton, - 

Grandmother, The, Alfred Tennyson, - 

Grief Common, Rev. David Russell, - 

Grief not Forgotten, Eev. William Blair, M.A., - 

Heavenly Comfort, Eev. Geo. Gilfillan, 
Heavenly Relationship, Rev. P. B. Power, M. A 
Highest Rank in Heaven, The, Ralph Erskine, 
His Will be Done, Elliot, - 
Historical Sketch, Dr. William Anderson, - 
Heathenism — Cicero, Quinctillian, Virgil, 

Judaism, 

Christianity, - 

Popery, - - - - 

Protestantism, 

Home Trial, James Hedderwick, 



" I dare not Weep nor Murmur," - 483 

I'm Going Home, Dr. John Macfarlane, - - - 430 

Important Suggestion, Dr. Geo. Turner, - - - 63 

Infant Choir in Heaven, The, James Montgomery, - 403 

Intensity of Parental Grief, Dr. Adam Thomson, - 288 

"It is Well," Dr. Octavius Winslow, - - 261 

"It is Well," Alexander Smith, - - -425 

Jesus in the Storm, Dr. Alex. Wallace, 487 

' < Jesus Wept, " Dr. Eadie, 305 

John Brown and his Little Graves, David Pae, - - 210 

Joy of Infants in Heaven, The, 251 

Lambs of the Flock, Dr. Sommerville, - * - 279 

Lambs Safely Folded, The, - - 456 

Letter, Dr. A. Fletcher, - - - - 249 



PAGE 

445 
349 
374 
222 
217 



- 236 

- 268 

- 489 

- 355 

- 15-40 

16 
25 
25 
28 
33 

- 376 



INDEX, 



Letters, Dr. Alexander Waugh, - ■ - 
Letter, Eev. Dr. Wrn. Symington, 

Letters to William Logan, 

Light around the Infant's Tomb, Dr. Chalmers, - 

Lilies Gathered, The, Rev. Ehenezer Erskine; 

Little Cells of Felicity, Jeremy Taylor, 

Little Dora, Mrs. Janet Hamilton, 

Little Dwelling, The, Thomas Aird, - 

Little Florence, David Raeside, - 

Little Maggie, John Brown, M.D., 

Little Wilfrid's Sleep, Robert Gillespie, - - 



Mary, David Wingate, - - - - - 426 

Mary Ann, Robert Nicoll, 407 

Maternal Grief, William Wordsworth, - 372 

Matthew Henry Monrning for his Three Children, - 313 
Melville's Child and the Two Doves, Mrs. A. Stuart 

Monteith, 477 

Merciful Arrangement, A, Dr. R. Winter Hamilton, - 347 

Missionary's Family Desolated, Rev. R. Knill, - - 325 

Messenger of Heaven, A, Mrs. Hemans, - - - 415 

Mother Bereaved, To A, Rev. Henry Batchelor, - 432 
Mother Bereaved of Her First Born, A, Dr. John 

Morison, London, 296 

Mother's Christmas Morning, A, .... 450 

Mystery Dispelled, Rev. H. T. Howat, 329 
Mystery in the Death of the Lambs of Christ's Flock, 

Rev. John Kay, 204 

Not Dead but Changed, William Freeland, - - 441 

0, Little Child, J. Stanyan Bigg, .... 423 
"Of Such is the Kingdom of Heaven," Mrs. David 

Henderson, 438 

Old Churchyard, The, Mrs. Janet Hamilton, - 437 

Only a Curl, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, - . 410 



- 250 

- 142 

- 49-56 

- 162 

- 318 

- 311 

- 438 

- 387 

- 464 

- 153 

- 443 



J. 



XXII 



INDEX. 



PAGE 

Our First Taken, Rev.* Walter C. Smith, M.A., - 380 

Our Lily, Mrs. Augusta Webster, - - - 429 

Our Only Child, Professor John Wilson, - - - 388 

Paradise, Gone to, Charles Wesley, - 489 
Parental Anxiety Removed by the Early Death of 

Children, Dr. John Macfarlane, - - - 134 

Parental Bereavement, Ingredients of, Dr. John Brown, 144 

Parent's Grief, John Pierpont, - - . 459 



Quickened Intelligence of Dying Children, Dr. J. 

R. M 'Gavin, ... - 322 

Bagged-school Boy, Dr. Guthrie, .... 260 

Reaper and the Flowers, The, Henry W. Longfellow, 398 

[Recognition after the Resurrection, Dr. Wm. Anderson, 159 

Recognition of Children in Heaven, Dr. John Brown, 149 

"Resignation," Henry W. Longfellow, - - - 398 

Resigned in Hope, William T. M'Auslane, - - 440 

Resignation to the Will of God, Mrs. Janet Hamilton, 226 

Rose-bud, The Garden, Mrs. H. Beecher Stowe, - 480 

Re-Union in Heaven, Dr. John Brown, - - - 151 

Safe with Christ, Rev. Charles Garrett, - - - CCD 
Saviour amidst a Group of Children, The, Rev. Dr. 

Steane, - - 328 

Saviour's Care for Little Children, Rev. Peter Mearns, 342 
Saviour's Sympathy with the Afflicted, The, Dr. John 

Eadie, 303 

Scene from " Uncle Tom's Cabin," Mrs. H. B. Stowe, 345 

Shunammite and her Son, The, Dr. John Bruce, - - 190 

Sick Child's Dream, Robert Mcoll, - 405 

Song of the Churchyard Children, Thomas Aird, - 386 

Star of Comfort, A, James Edmeston, - - - 468 

61 Still Thou art Mine Own," Paul Gerhardt, - - 393 



INDEX. 



xxiii 



PAGE 

Sunshine on Little Graves, Rev. John Albert Bengel, 352 
Sympathise with Mourners, How to, Rev. Dr. Charles 

J. Vaughan, 308 

The Child's Fancy, H. D. Munson, - 463 

"The Three Sons," John Moultrie, - 451 

These Little Ones, Eev. J. Baldwin Brown, B.A, - 253 

Thornless Sorrow, D. M. Moir (" Delta"), - - 356 

"Thy Will be Done," Mrs. Janet Hamilton, - - 434 

Transplanted Flower, A, W. B. Bradbury, - - 330 

Treasure in Heaven, Mary Howitt, - 35o 

Two in Heaven, "Fanny Fern," - - - ~: - - 351 

Unbelieving Parents Warned, Dr. John Gumming, - 242 

Unconverted Parents Admonished, Dr. M 'Michael, - 239 

Vacant Corner, The, Mrs. David Henderson, - - 440 

We are Seven, William Wordsworth, - 370 

"Wee Davie's Coffin," Dr. Norman Macleod, - - 272 

Wee Katie's Gane, John Young, ----- 433 

Wee White Rose, Our, Gerald Massey, - - - 417 

Wee Willie, D. M. Moir ("Delta"), - 361 

Weep not for Her, 466 

Where is my Child? - - - - - - 485 

White Dove, Our, Gerald Massey, - 422 

Wilberforce's Delight in Children, ... - 354 



HISTOEICAL SKETCH 

OP THE QUESTION OF THE SALTATION OF 

DECEASED INFANTS. 



The history of the question of the salvation of such as 
die in infancy is at once curious and impressive. It is 
curious for the exhibition which it makes of men being 
compelled gradually to modify their most favourite 
systematic dogmas till they reduced them almost, if not 
entirely, to absurdities; and it is impressive for the 
manifestation which it makes of the principle by which 
they were thus compelled — viz., the sovereign power of 
Common Sense — the common sense of united Piety and 
Humanity — protesting, in the one case, against God 
being blasphemed, by pourtraying Him an object of 
horror, for injustice and cruelty; and, in the other case, 
against the best affections of the human heart being 
insulted and outraged. 

This observation applies especially to the course of 
thought and feeling among Christians. But it will be 
interesting and profitable to review in the first instance 
the views of Heathens and Jews, 



16 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



HEATHENISM. 

CICERO, QUINCTILLIAN", VIRGIL. 

Among: the heathen, the views of the condition of 
those who died in infancy not only partook of their 
darkness on the subject of the Immortality of those 
who died in adult age, but were even more gloomy. 
L shall go no further back in the review than the 
times shortly before and after the advent of our Lord, 
when human philosophy had exhausted its wisdom on 
the subject. 

It is usual to instance the case of Cicero, one of the 
most learned and virtuous of heathens, as having been 
left of all his philosophical speculations so disconsolate, 
on the occasion of the death of his idolized daughter, 
Tullia, But the case is not quite in point. Neither 
did Tullia die in infancy, nor was Cicero entirely 
destitute of consolation : for he assigned her an 
apotheosis, or translation to a seat among the gods, and 
built and dedicated a temp]e to her worship. 

The case of Quinctillian, however, is strictly to our 
purpose. He was the most celebrated rhetorician of 
his day, and, morally, a man of singular probity of 
character. His wife, whom he loved tenderly, died 
young, leaving him with two sons of high precocious 
promise. Nothing in the following pages, and there is 
much of it, exceeds the parental admiration with which 
he describes the properties, physical, intellectual, and 
moral, of these two boys. But one of them died in 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



17 



the fifth, the other in the tenth, year of age. The 
whole of the passage occurring in Book VI. of his 
Institutes of the Orator, in which he gives an account 
of the state of his mincl, is intensely painful. Our 
limits afford space for only a short extract : — 

"Whilst day and night I laboured to execute my 
design before mortality had assailed me, the bitterness 
of fortune all of a sudden so overwhelmed me that the 
fruits of my industry belonged to no one less than to 
myself; for I lost that promising son, the on]y hope of 
my old age; and this was the second wound that was 
struck deep to afflict me, now a childless father. What, 
then, could I do? or on what any more employ the 
unfortunate talents on which the gods seem to frown ] 
It was my evil fate to be prostrated by a similar stroke 
when I set about writing the book which I published 
on the Causes of the Corruption of Eloquence. Why, 
then, did I not cast into the fire that miserable work % 
I should have gained more by doing so, than by 
harassing anew with cares the remainder of a life 
which must, necessarily, be criminal. For what right- 
hearted parent would forgive me, should I again engage 
in study % Who would not detest my insensibility, if 
I made any other use of my voice than to vent com. 
plaints against the injustice of the gods, who have 
made me survive all that was dearest to me in the 
world, — if I did not proclaim aloud that there is no 
providence in the regulation of human affairs % That 
there is none is visible in regard to me — if not on 
account of my own misfortunes, to whom no evil can 

B 



18 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



be imputed but that I prolong my life, at least on 
account of the undeserved destiny of my boys." 

In the same strain he proceeds at great length, with- 
out indicating, by the slightest expression, the faintest 
hope that those whom he loved so dearly were happy, 
or that he would ever see them again; and he concludes 
with the miserable consolation that, "since we live, we 
must seek out for some occupation ; and that we may 
take the counsel of learned men, who have looked on 
literature as the only solace in adversity." 

When we reflect that Quinctillian and Paul were 
not only contemporaries, but that they dwelt in Rome 
at the same time ; and that, when the rhetorician, the 
admired of the literati who crowded his lecture-room, 
was venting his despair in blasphemy against such 
gods as he believed in, the Apostle, from his cell and 
bound in chains, was issuing to the Churches his 
consolatory admonitions, that they should not sorrow 
over their deceased friends, even as others who have 
no hope — when we reflect, I say, on the contrast, how 
shall we sufficiently magnify "the glorious gospel of 
the Blessed God?" 

Much, however, as the case of Quinctillian serves 
our purpose, that of Virgil, the greatest of Roman 
poets, who died about twenty years before the birth of 
Christ, serves it still more. Though the representation 
of which I am about to give a sketch, occurs in a poem, 
it contains the best account we have, not only of the 
popular belief, but of the most refined speculations of 
their philosophers. 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. J "J 

His hero .^Eneas, beset with difficulties, as admon- 
ished by dreams, undertakes to visit, in the subterranean 
regions, his deceased father, Anchises, for his counsel. 
Having secured the necessary passport of the golden 
bough, as an offering to Queen Proserpine, and the 
company and guidance of the Sibyl priestess of Apollo, 
who had been down there before, he sets forth on the 
journey. They enter the dreadful cavern of Avernus 
(somewhere in Italy), and make what the poet calls, 
somewhat strangely, but morally significantly, the 
easy descent (facilis descensus). Having reached the 
bottom, they make their way through the gloom to the 
river Styx, beyond which lie the dominions of Pluto. 
The hither bank is crowded with the shades or manes 
— the souls in aeriform integuments — of those who have 
recently died, or ha^e not yet received burial, without 
which they must remain where they are for a hundred 
years. All press eagerly to be conveyed across the 
dark flood by the grim ferryman, Charon : though one 
cannot easily divine the reason of the eagerness, it 
being but few, — none of the children, certainly, — for 
whom the regions beyond are not as doleful, at least, 
as that in which they at present wander. Of the 
particular scenes witnessed here, it is to our purpose 
to remark only, that of the promiscuous crowd in this 
outer, preliminary region, youth form a principal part. 
Yirgil does not ignore them, or dispose of them by 
annihilating them : — 



20 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



An airy crowd came rushing where he stood, 
Which filled the margin of the fatal flood — 
Husbands and wives, boys and unmarried maids, 
And mighty heroes' more majestic shades; 
And youths entombed before their fathers' eyes, 
With hollow groans, and shrieks, and feeble cries. 

^EJneas and the Sibyl having prevailed v. ith Charon, 
by displaying the golden bough, to ferry them across, 
though contrary to law, they being "yet in the flesh," 
they first encounter the watch-dog, Cerberus, having 
lulled which asleep with a potion which the Sibyl had 
prepared, they pass on, — ■ 

Hark ! as they enter shrieks arise, 

And wailing great and sore, — 
The souls of infants uttering cries, 

At ingress of the door; 
Whom, portionless of life's sweet bliss, 

From mother's breast untimely torn, 
The black day hurried to the abyss, 

And plunged in darkness soon as born. 

— Connington. 

The travellers have now entered the region of what 
the Popish doctors call the Liinboes.* They and Virgil 
oive somewhat different accounts of the various de- 
partments. For instance, instead of Lugentes Campi 

* Limbo is the Italian, received into the English, for the Latin 
word Limbus, which in the classics signifies a fringe, or border. 
The Doctors Laving divided the Infernal Eegions into four Depart- 
nients— the lowest, Hell— the next above, Purgatory— above that, 
the Department for unbaptised infants. — and highest, that for the 
Fathers, they denominate the last two Linibi, as being the Fringes of 
the Lower Regions. 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



(the Mournful Fields) of Virgil, to which he represents 
Forlorn Lovers consigned, the Topography of the 
Doctors gives us Limbus Patrum (the Limbo of the 
Fathers), where the souls of the Patriarchs* were 
deposited, and detained till the Resurrection of Christ, 
at which time they were emancipated and transferred 
to heaven : so that Limbus Patrum is now without 
tenants. But in the two reports of the Limbo of 
Infants (Limbus Infantum, pontifice) there is a remark- 
able accordance. Both represent it as being a region 
cheerless and gloomy — not properly a place of punish' 
ment, like the Tartarus of Virgil, or the Hell and 
Purgatory of the Doctors ; but one, the infant tenants 
of which are ail miserable. Virgil, as we have just 
seen, represents them as weeping wuth loud lamentation 
— ingens vagitus, as it is in the Latin. On the other 
hand, the Doctors represent them as subjected to the 
suffering of loss, though not of sense. — Here is the 
precise difference betwixt the Virgilian and Tridentine 
theologies on this subject. Virgil consigns all who 
die in infancy, without exception, to this region of 
-misery, to weep and wail there for ever. In his 
subsequent peregrinations, ^Eneas sees no children in 
the happy Elysian fields ; none drinking of the waters 
of Lethe, in order to their returning to the life of this 
world. All are consigned to Limbo, and for none is 
there egress. On the contrary, the Doctors make an 
exception in favour of all children who have been 
baptised. They consign a number, indeed, of these — 
even all such as may have contracted any impurity since 



22 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



their baptism — to the fires of Purgatory; "but it is in 
expectation of their being translated to the heavenly 
city, after they have undergone, for the stated and 
necessary term, say a thousand years or so, the fiery 
purification; or have had the term abbreviated by 
masses, which the parents have procured from the priests. 
By making this exception, the Christian Doctors have 
undeniably improved, in respect of mercifulness, on 
the theology of the Gentile Poet. But this is all : the 
Doctors hold tenaciously by the Poet's creed, thus far, 
and it is a dreadful length — that the countless millions 
of deceased unbaptised infants are inexorably doomed 
to that doleful Limbo — hopelessly, for eternity. Such 
is the profiting which, according to the Pope, the 
prospects of infants have made by the gospel of Jesus 
Christ, above what they were under the vaticinations 
of the heathen Virgil. But there are less merciful and 
more merciless interpreters of that gospel than His 
grim Holiness, as we shall presently shew. 

We have already seen all that Yirgil has to reveal 
of the state of deceased Infants — the proper subject 
under consideration. But it may be profitable, as well 
as gratifying to the curiosity of some, to complete the 
sketch of the whole of his picture of the Immortality 
of Man. 

^Eneas and his guide having passed through the 
region of the Limboes, to the left they see the huge 
prison walls of Tartarus, where the wicked undergo 
punishment. The travellers care not to enter there ; 
but as they pass they hear the horrid grinding and 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



23 



lashings of the engines of torment, and the waitings of 
the sufferers. It is to our special purpose to remark 
that they hear no in gens vagitus of infants proceeding 
thence. Nor have the sharp ears of the Popish Doctors 
heard any. All the infant lamentation they have 
heard, proceeds either from Limbo or Purgatory. But 
the Tractarians report that they have heard such 
sounds distinctly, coming up from their Hell; being 
the waitings of children whom their parents did not 
bring to them, of the apostolic succession, to be bap- 
tised ; and to which they, therefore, refuse the rites of 
Christian sepulture. And some Presbyterians assure 
us that they have heard a good loud echo of the cries of 
those infants who, either baptised or not, are, according 
to Sovereign Decree, "vessels of wrath;" and they 
plead the authorities of Westminster, who signalise 
"elect infants dying in infancy." Is not that, they 
argue, a pretty loud echo of the "reprobation" of 
another party 1 — But let us proceed with our travellers. 
— Having suspended their offering of the golden bough 
for Proserpine at the gate of the palace of Pluto, they 
hasten onward to the Elysian fields, where Anchises 
and the eminently virtuous enjoy their reward. These 
Fields, though subterranean, shine with a sun and stars 
of their own ; and, in respect of their material aspect, 
are described by the poet with singular beauty. The 
scene is not excelled by Milton's Paradise. But the 
moral and human aspect is pitiful, and, in some respects, 
truly contemptible. In Yirgil's Elysium, there is 
discoverable neither god, temple, nor worship. As 



24 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



already stated, no children are admitted there ; and as 
for the adults who are, in spite of the exertions of the 
poet's great genius, the impression is irresistible that, 
with all the dancing and hunting and mock fighting 
in which these shades indulge, in imitation of what 
they were used to up above, the pleasures of Elysium 
are heartless, insipid, puerile, and wearisome. And 
even for father Anchises there is no inspiring hope 
that he shall ever rise from this subterranean region 
to a residence in the heavens among the gods. Yea, 
it does not appear that he is even one of those elected 
by the Fates to return by means of transmigration to 
the joyous activities of this world, after drinking of the 
waters of Lethe, for the extinction of all remembrance 
of a former state of existence. — The concourse of shades 
disporting themselves on the banks of that river, and 
sipping its opiate streams, is the last scene of Virgil's 
Immortality of Man. By a secret side door, Anchises 
lets ^Eneas and the Sibyl out, so that they are saved 
returning by the dark and difficult way by which they 
have come, without expressing any regret that they 
must leave Elysium. 

How affecting to a reflective mind is the whole of 
the representation ! Some may wonder why we have 
expended so much time and space on what they call 
such idle fancies. Vain and foolish they are, but they 
are not idle. They contain the best, the very best of 
what Gentile philosophy had excogitated on the subject 
of Human Immortality— the best for the deterring of 
the vicious, the best for the animating of the virtuous, 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



25 



the best for the comforting of the bereaved : and this 
so late as about twenty years only before the birth of 
Christ, The reflection returns, How gross was the 
darkness ! and how shall we sufficiently magnify the 
Glorious Gospel? 

JUDAISM. 

The reflection returns again, when, from the state 
of opinion among the Gentiles, we turn to consider its 
state among the Jews. The Sinaitic dispensation — 
— the entire Institute of Moses — did not contain any 
express sanction in its legislation, either of eternal 
rewards or of eternal punishments, whatever it may be 
thought its promises and threatenings implied. The 
Abrahamic Covenant, indeed, lay as a stratum below 
(Galatians iii.' 17) and crops up at times in the Psalms 
and Prophets with its immortal prospects ; but these 
were but dimly seen and feebly apprehended by the 
greater part even of the spiritual Israel. And not 
much less for the Jew than for the Gentile was the 
cry of the necessities of human nature loud for One 
who should bring Life and Immortality to light. 

CHRISTIANITY. 

When He who was the desire of all nations, in 
respect of His being adequate to meet their necessi- 
ties, did at last arrive, how glorious was the sunshine 
which He shed on the prospects of the faithful, but 



26 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



especially on those of children — elevating them from a 
condition of neglect and contempt to a station so pro- 
minent and high in His kingdom ! The subsequent 
pages are engaged with an illustration of this ; and a 
beautiful milky way in the theological firmament they 
form. No claim, indeed, is made for the compilation 
that it presents an adequate view of the subject. 
Some friends may complain of a want of breadth and 
reach in the vision, in respect of the place and part 
which those who have died in infancy will occupy and 
act in the kingdom of perfected glory; when that 
which "is sown in weakness, is raised in power" (1 
Cor. xv. 43), and when there shall be distinguishable 
neither infantile spirit, nor infantile material invest- 
ment of it. But let those who might complain of this 
deficiency reflect, that the subject of the immortal 
prospects of that part of the human family which dies 
in infancy is one of new and recent study. This may 
appear at first sight a paradoxical statement. But the 
following pages prove its truth. The Editor, with all 
his diligence, and watchfulness for matter with which 
to adorn his Book and make it profitable, and withal, 
restrained by no sectarian scrupulosity in making the 
selection, has found little to his purpose which is not 
of modern, yea, recent production. He does not affect 
being able to search the writings of those who are 
called the Fathers for himself. But he has not dis- 
covered one quotation from them, made by the learned, 
worthy of appropriation. Of course, little was to be 
expected from the divines of the Dark Ages, nor from 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



27 



those of the Scho^stic either, though Dante's star 
twinkles beautifully amid the surrounding gloom of 
Limbo. (See page 393.) But surely we might have 
calculated on light rising with the Reformation. Lit e: ; 
did. There was, at that otherwise great era, small 
reformation for the children. Gerhardt's star (p. 393) 
twinkles like Dante's amid the gloom : and for ages, 
till a short time ago, the gloom remained but slightly 
dissipated. On the one hand, from among the Fathers 
downwards, and among the Scholastics, there is more 
than enough to be found about the regenerating power 
of baptism; but the subject is dealt with specially in 
its bearing on the case of those who have grown up to 
adult estate, as having received through baptism the 
spiritual germ. And on the other hand, among Pro^ 
testants not a little had been said and written, especially 
in consolatory letters, on the salvation of such children 
of pious parents as die in infancy, from their being 
included in the parental covenant ; but it was princi- 
pally to soothe the feelings of those who might fear 
that their children were doomed to misery. In either 
case there was little of a wide-minded insisting on the 
subject of infant mind forming a principal constituent 
of the kingdom of the Redeemed. And even now that 
matters have considerably improved, how much remains 
defective ! In the contents of contributors to this 
volume, there appear, no doubt, some good names; but 
how few comparatively of those who are regarded as 
authorities in the Church, though the greatest industry 
has been employed in search for testimonies '? And 



28 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



even of those discovered, how many are characterised 
either by restriction in favour of the seed of the 
righteous, or by hesitancy, or apologetic phrases for the 
liberalism in expressing hopes for all. But matters are 
in a promising condition, and for the encouragement 
of those who grieve for the manner in which the Great 
Salvation is obscured, I shall briefly sketch the pro- 
gress of light during the past, as an earnest of its 
accelerated progress for the future. 



POPERY. 

The Church of Rome laid down, as a fundamental 
gma of its creed, that water Baptism is indispens- 
able to regeneration, and, consequently, to salvation- 
According to that system of imposture, Baptism is the 
most important and efficient of all ordinances. Even 
the sacrifice of the Mass, together with the communion 
of the Eucharist, cannot impart salvation; but only 
perpetuate and cherish that which Baptism originated. 
At first, it might be supposed that there was no other 
ordinance to the valid administration of which one of 
the apostolic succession, endowed by ordination with 
the power of the Holy Ghost, was so imperatively 
necessary. But reflect what would be the consequence: 
not only the consigning to eternal misery of all dying 
in infancy among the heathen, and Mohammedans, and 
heretics, but the dooming to the same fate of a great 
multitude born among the Faithful, for whose baptism 
the services of an ordained official could not be obtained 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



29 



before they died. Common Sense — the common sense 
of united piety and humanity — would not tolerate the 
Moloch-like atrocity. So the priesthood were compelled 
to surrender the exclusive right to administer that 
ordinance which, according to their fundamental dogma, 
is properly the ordinance of salvation. The demand of 
unsophisticated nature forced them, by decree after 
decree, to extend the liberty of baptizing, till it was 
perfected by the Council of Trent, which enacted, that 
provided the operator only intend to do what the 
Church intends by the ordinance (a very reasonable 
limitation surely), it is valid baptism — valid for 
salvation — be the operator priest, heretic, or courtezan, 
as illustrated in the recent case of the baptism of the 
Jew Mortara boy. That profligate girl thereby regen- 
erated him; so that the Pope, having had committed 
to him the charge of all who are saved, is entitled 
to his custody. 

Further than this Priesthood could not go with its 
accommodations, in the direction of sharing with others 
the office of saving the infants. But Common Sense 
is not easily satisfied. It referred to many cases of 
death, even within the pale of the Church, in which, 
notwithstanding all the extension of the license, 
baptism could not be obtained. Say you, that all such 
shall perish eternally 1 They shall not, said imperious 
Common Sense; and you priests must go forward with 
the modification of your dogma, and invent something 
more, or renounce it altogether. So they consulted 
with the Jesuits, and issued the decree that the desire 



30 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



on the part of a parent for the baptism of a child is 

equally efficacious with its actual administration. 

Not satisfied yet, said exacting Common Sense. There 
are many instances in which the fathers had died before 
the children were born, and in which the mothers died 
under the pains of their birth, so that any desire of 
which you speak for their baptism was impossible. 
Nor, as before, was there any friend or stranger near 
for the baptismal operation on the dying infants. Shall 
they, therefore, be consigned to the eternal torment of 
hell fire? Think you, sir Priests, that either men who 
have been taught by the Gospel that God is Justice, 
not to speak of His being Love, or civilized men who 
have risen above barbarism, will put up with this ? 
You must try again. — Do not be so passionate, said 
Priesthood. You speak as uncharitably as ignorantly. 
After His Holiness, who holds the keys of all regions 
in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, had 
established, as you well know, in this last region of 
his universal domain, the Colony of Purgatory, for 
saving baptised profligates from being precipitated so 
low as Hell, you might have been certain, had you 
been candid, that in that clemency by which he is 
characterised, he would have taken the case of these 
unbaptized unfortunates into consideration, and pro- 
vided some mitigation of their doom. Know, therefore, 
that he laas established another Colony in those nether 
regions for this benevolent end. In the topography of 
the Holy Catholic Church, it is designated the Limbo 
of unbaptized infants — situated above Purgatory, and 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



consequently a good way off from the fierce fires of 
Hell.* We acknowledge it is not a land of much, 
happiness; but it is as little miserable as it could pos- 
sibly be made. Our older doctors distinguished that 
the misery is only that of loss, and not that of sense : 
which our renowned Bellarmine, distinguishing mure 
nicely, represents as being a condition, not quite so en- 
viable as a state of annihilation, but of the nearest degree 
to it. — Please your Reverence, said Common Sense, 
speaking in the person of a widowed, child-bereft woman, 
will you explain yourself for the help of a sorrowing 
heart % I carried my heavy burden those weary months, 
sustained by the hope that he who was coming would 
be a compensatory representative to me of his father. 
My imagination made him very beautiful, and dwelt 
on the vision night and day. But he died at his birth, 
when I had swooned away in the solitude, so that I 

* This is no burlesque representation. It is the calm ratiocina- 
tion of Popish dogmatic theologians. I have given in a previous 
note their topography of the Lower regions. Whence they argue 
that Purgatory, being so near to the fires of Hell, is nearly as hot 
— that its punishment is not to be disesteemed as light; as it would 
appear from Bellarmine's long argument many of the faithful are 
disposed to regard it. Masses and Indulgences ! therefore, Ho ! 
Buy our Masses and Indulgences for your deceased friends ; and 
in making provision for yourselves, look to your Latter Wills. But 
in the same proportion do they argue that Limbo is temperate, — 
rather cold in fact, as being so far removed from the lower fire, 
and wanting the sun. This consolation of mothers they adminis- 
ter gratis. For it does not interfere with the traffic in Indulgences 
and Masses : these being of no avail for the deliverance of Limbo- 
doomed infants. Oh the impious villainy! and they call this the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ ! 



32 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



could not even desire baptism for him. My earthly hope 
is extinguished; but may I not entertain a heavenly 
one? Though by the Church's decree he must have 
gone to Limbo, may I not rescue him from that dole- 
ful region, and secure his companionship for his father 
and myself in the celestial city ? My neighbour ex- 
pends all she can save on the purchase of Masses for 
her profligate son, in the hope of delivering him from 
Purgatory, and raising him to heavenly blessedness. 
May not / do the same for delivering my infant, who 
never did any sin, from the Limbo in which he is im- 
prisoned, so that we three shall be a happy family in 
the kingdom of God 2 Tell me, priest. — You are very 
importunate, woman, said his Reverence. But though, 
from being a member of the Priesthood, and thereby 
happily saved from all family cares, I cannot sympa- 
thize, from experience, with your parental solicitude, 
yet, on general principles of humanity, I sympathize 
with you, in a measure: I assure you I do; and am 
sorry to give you pain by informing you that there is 
no hope for your child, and that it is vain to trouble 
yourself about it. It is an unfortunate case; but His 
Holiness has done for it all he could, consistently with 
constitutional principles in the government of the Church. 
By his establishment of Limbo he has saved your child 
from Hell; but from that Limbo there is no possible 
deliverance for it; there it must remain for eternity. 
From not being baptized it wants the germ of spiritual 
life, so as to be unsusceptible of the influence of Masses; 
whereas the soul of your neighbour's wicked adult son 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



is susceptible, from the fortunate circumstance of his 
Baptism. But why distress yourself so much about 
Limbo 1 It shows a weakness of heart. It is not so 
bad a place. I assure you that not a few of us, even 
of the holy Priesthood, would be relieved by the pros- 
pect of its insensibility, nigh to annihilation, so that we 
might escape the retribution of the protracted torments 
of Purgatory. Purgatory ! exclaimed the aroused 
mother; the region below it is the fit destination for 
those who, for proud and mercenary ends, torment their 
victims with such blasphemous and inhuman horrors. 
Long enough I have been one of those victims; and 
now and for ever I emancipate myself from the thral- 
dom, and am away to see if I can find my child among 
the Protestants. 

PROTESTANTIS2L 

Had she entered England, fancying it to be Pro- 
testant, by one of those many directions in which 
Ritualism enacts its follies and frauds, she would have 
found matters gloomier than ever. Kot only does that 
vile abortion deny the validity of any Baptism which 
has not been administered by its own polluted hands, 
but has not provided any mitigated Limbo, as Poperv 
has done, for the unbaptized; but consigns them all 
remorselessly to the flames of Hell. But let England 
! herself purge herself of the nuisance. 

It is Scotland in whose honour and welfare I am 
chiefly concerned. The fore-mentioned mother in 
leaving Popedom, landed among us in search of her 

c 



34 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



child. And it was well for her that it was recently. 
Even so lately as sixty years ago, unless she had chanced 
to enter at some singular corner, she would have found 
it better for her heart to return to Rome, and quiet 
her anxieties, as she "best could, with the reflection that 
the Popish Limbo was not so woeful as the Protestant 
Hell. Our Calvinism, commencing with the Sovereign 
decree of Election, equitably assigned to those who died 
in infancy their 'proportional share of the mercy, but not 
less equitably their proportional share of the judgment 
— the judgment of reprobation or pretention; so that 
calculating the infants' share by that of the adults, as 
manifested in faith and a holy life, there was left a vast 
multitude who perished eternally. — Parental affection 
early demanded, and easily obtained the modification, 
that the whole of such children of pious parents as died 
in infancy should be included in the decree of salvation. 
With this the heart of Scottish Protestantism for a long 
time remained satisfied. With the exception of those 
bom of pious parents, and the proportion saved by the 
General decree, all the rest, in millions upon millions, 
were doomed to everlasting woe. For two centuries 
and a-half after the Reformation, this was the prevailing 
dogma. And when, fifty years ago, Common Sense, 
warming into life out of its dreadful torpidity, began to 
vindicate the character of God, the rights of Christ, and 
the feelings of humanity, it was with hesitancy and 
bated breath, and amid suspicions of their soundness in 
the faith, that a few voices were heard suggesting the 
possibility that all who die in infancy are saved. 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



35 



The question was agitated in this form for a con- 
siderable time, and Common Sense gained ground. 
About forty years ago, when he who sketches this 
review entered on the public ministration of the Gos- 
pel, there were found a few lifting up their voices in 
protest and advocacy, that it was not only possible but 
probable, that all who died in infancy, having been 
guilty of no actual sin — no rejection of Him who was 
appointed the world's Eedeemer, were saved. He soon 
cast in his lot with the pleaders for such probability, to 
share the odium of being suspected — suspected ! denoun- 
ced, as being unsound, and licentiously squandering the 
salvation of Christ.* But Common Sense was with us, 
and we prospered. Nay, that is not the accurate ac- 
count. It protested against our paltering limitation. 

* Here I must make confession, with shame and regret, that at 
the commencement of my ministry, I preached the salvation of 
the deceased infants of the righteous, almost exclusively. But I 
soon left that ground. It would not bear a continuance of 
preaching, it would not pray, it would not visit with. 4 'Must I 
wait till I am assured of my own or my husband's salvation," said 
a pious mother, but troubled in mind about her state, " before I 
cease fearing that our wee Be+sy may have gone to Hell?" I was 
done for ever with the wicked absurdity. — During the late contro- 
versy on the Extent of the Atonement, having met Dr. Wardlaw 
in a book-shop, and pointed out a passage to him in a book, 
that morning published by one of the opposite party, arguing the 
possibility of the eternal damnation of a portion of deceased 
infants, he said, " That is frightful; " but added, " I regret deeply 
that in controversy with the Baptists I was seduced into the use 
of expressions savouring of a limitation of the salvation of deceased 
infants to the seed of the righteous. I abhor the thought : and 
am persuaded that this question of the Extent of the Atonement 
will yet turn on the question of Infant Salvation." 



HISTORICAL SKETCH.. 



Mere probability of all being saved implied, it said, the 
possibility of some or many of infant spirits, who had 
neither done, nor spoken, nor thought an evil thing, 
being consigned to the fires of Hell. Civilization, not 
to speak of Piety, will not endure it. You must pro- 
gress, Reverend Sirs. So we of the anti-slavery school 
ascended the platform to proclaim the certainty of the 
salvation of all dying in infancy, — when the pro-slavery 
Conservatism of Dogma was now in its turn reduced 
in most quarters to a feeble protestation that we were 
wise above what is written — as if it were not written 
that God is just, which He would not be were He to 
consign to Hell fire any infant spirit : " Are not my 
ways equal?" saith the Lord (Ezek. xviii. 29). All Com- 
mon Sense says, Amen. You need not try by sophistica- 
tions to reduce the judgment. Common Sense will not 
now tolerate you, in preaching, as was preached by not 
a few, even so late as fifty years ago, that there are 
possibly, if not probably , a multitude of infants, "not a 
span long," dreeing the penalty of Adam's sin in the 
abyss of Hell. Such was their phraseology, quoting 
the Scriptures without any lamentations about it. 
(Lamentations ii. 20.) Simply, it is most dreadful to 
think with what thoughts of God the mind of Scotland 
was infected, and that not long since. 

!N~ot long since ! — there remain, at this moment, not 
a few of the old Conservative party, who hold by the 
antique doctrine of the possible damnation, at least, of 
an incalculable multitude of infant spirits. / know 
some of them, and some of them are as kindhearted 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



37 



as myself. It is dogma -which, like a Cerberus, 
stands in their way, preventing their entertainment 
of the blessed hope that Christ's reward, otherwise so 
meagre, shall be magnified by His receiving into His 
kingdom every human soul which was rescued in infancy 
from the corrupting influence of this world. But even 
this dogmatic difficulty is in process of being overcome. 
One, confessed by all to be the most acute and eloquent 
of living pleaders for the theory of a Limited Atone- 
ment, has recently published a treatise, in which he 
declares his conviction that the stroke of death is never 
permi ted to fall on any infant who was not included 
in the Elective decree. The reference is to Dr. Cand- 
lish, who in his work, The Atonement, its Reality, Com- 
pleteness and Extent, thus expresses himself: " In many 
ways it may be inferred from Scripture, that all dying 
in infancy are elect, and are therefore saved." That 
there is thus security from death during infancy and 
childhood, the length of the age of personal responsibility 
(usually calculated to begin from the seventh to the 
ninth year), for all non-elected human souls, and that 
only the elected are liable to it, is not a discovery of 
Dr. Candlish for escaping the difficulty of representing 
any unsmiling spirit being consigned to everlasting 
punishment. It will be found expressed in the fol- 
lowing pages by three or four Divines of eminence and 
much older standing. But the Doctor's position is such 
that his adopting of this mode of solution and his open 
profession of it will give liberty to many, both through 
his personal example, and the immunity from ecclesias- 



38 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



tical censure which he enjoys, to give scope to their 
Common Sense — the common sense of Piety and 
Humanity — to proclaim the universal salvation of such 
as die in infancy. Many of us would have been glad 
had the Doctor specified some of the many ways in 
which he infers from the Scriptures his consolatory 
doctrine; and some of us are curious about the mode of 
inference, by which he has deduced it, in consistency 
with the great principle of his book. But meantime 
we are thankful for the assurance that, by whatever 
process, he has arrived at the conclusion. 

The principle is being eagerly laid hold of by many 
besides the immediate denominational brethren of that 
eminent divine and preacher; so that we shall soon 
enjoy a very wide proclamation throughout our land, 
made without hesitancy, or any disheartening palterings 
with mere possibilities or probabilities, that all children 
dying in infancy are saved; so that the dark imagina- 
tion of any one of them being doomed to everlasting 
woe shall be excluded from our theology and pulpits, 
no more to torment the minds of the people with its 
impious horrors. 

That the present publication will contribute largely 
to this end there can be no doubt. Its adaptation to 
the work has already been proved. And when there is 
such abundant testimony to the good service which it 
rendered in its original comparatively meagre form, 
what may not be calculated on as its success when it 
now appears as such a large thesaurus of the opinions 
and sentiments of many eminent divines and eminent 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



SO 



poets ] It must be a morbid heart indeed, which will 
resist the influence of its diversified appeals, and con- 
tinue to brood in fear that its deceased infant may have 
perished. How admirable are the ways of God ! The 
death of that promising child appeared at the time 
mysterious; but from the manner in which it induced 
her father to commence and proceed with the collection 
and publication of the contents of these interesting 
pages, it has proved the means of life to many hearts 
already, and is destined, I am persuaded, to do the 
same for a great multitude more. It affords a good illus- 
tration of a remark of an eminent contributor to this 
volume : — "There are in this world those whose sorrows 
all spring up into joy for others; whose earthly hopes, 
laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from 
which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate 
and the distressed. Among such was the delicate 
woman who sits there by the lamp, dropping slow 
tears, while she prepares the memorials of her own lost 
one for the outcast wanderer." 

And yet, in proportion to its excellence, there is for 
some minds a dangerous influence in the book. When, 
in former ages, infant spirits were to such an extent 
ignored, on calculating the glory of the kingdom of the 
Redeemer, there is in our age a tendency to idolize 
them. Are there not many for whom the principal, if 
not only attraction, of that kingdom is the company of 
their restored children] And this book, consisting as 
it does, from its nature, of Words of Comfort to the 
bereaved, and therefore especially engaged with dis- 



40 



HISTORICAL SKETCH. 



closing to the imagination these beatified children, may 
unhappily, foster the idolatry. I therefore conclude 
these remarks with a preventive sentence of warning. 
The Psalmist says of God, "There is none upon earth 
that I desire beside Thee," speaking evidently, compara- 
tively, and signifying that among many objects desired, 
God received the supreme place. This is a subject of 
familiar illustrati n. But David said something before 
that— "Whom have I in heaven but Theer' Ak, let 
the bereaved mother be admonished. If the vision of 
her child in heaven be more frequent, and moie en_ 
deared to her heart than the vision of the child's 
Saviour ; and much more, if the vision of the former so 
engross her heart as to exclude the vision of the latter 
altogether, T must assure her that heavenly-mindedness 
such as this will not promote that heavenly meeting on 
which her hope is set. Her first object of admiring 
contemplation in heaven must be her own Saviour ; and 
her great hope must be, meeting with Him, and seeing 
Him in his glory, before any meditation on the present 
happiness of her deceased child be of a sanctifying 
character; and before any hope of meeting again with 
that child in heavenly bliss be a hope not to be dis- 
appointed. I would express myself tenderly, when it 
is a bereaved mother's heart which is addressed; but 
would it be genuine tenderness if it were delusive, 
flattering unlaithfulness? Hope first in Christ for 
yourself, and then hope, not for your child's salvation 
— that is secure, bnt that you shall enjoy companion- 
ship with him in glory. vvr. A. 
Glasgow, Uddingsto:n t , April, 1S67. 



BRIEF NOTICE OF A SHORT LIFE. 



The history of the little girl, whose somewhat sudden 
death was the moving cause of collecting and publish- 
ing the following pieces, is soon told. Sophia, only- 
daughter of William and Janet Logan, was born at 
Bradford, Yorkshire, June 12th, 1851, and died at 
Abbotsford Place, Glasgow, May 1st, 1856, at the ten- 
der and interesting age of four years and ten months. 
Towards the close of March, 1856, she accompanied her 
mother to Keir-mill, Dumfriesshire. About two months 
previously, Sophia's faithful nurse had been buried in 
the churchyard there. The child gave her mother no 
rest till she took her to the beautiful, old sequestered 
burying-ground, on the banks of the Scarr. She soon 
stood beside, what she affectionately designated, whilst 
the tears trickled clown her cheeks, "My Mary's grave!" 
The child was deeply affected, and would allow no one 
to touch it with a foot, but gently pressed with her 
little hand the tender grass which covered it. She 
then went, of her own accord, to a greener spot in the 
burying-ground, plucked a " forget-me-not," and put it 
in at the head of what she repeatedly spoke of as 
"My Mary's grave!" 

Early on Monday morning, which was one of warm 



42 



BKIEF NOTICE OF A SHORT LIFE. 



sunshine, after wishing "good-bye" to a pious friend 
on her death-bed, she, in company with her mother 
and grandfather, walked to Thornhill. Passing along 
the romantic banks of the Mth, she was greatly de- 
lighted with the gambols of a number of lambs, and, 
with child-like simplicity, entreated "Grandpa" to 
assist her in catching one of them. On returning 
home, she referred with great glee to this part of the 
visit: and little did her parents then imagine that in 
about five short weeks their friends, in consolatory 
letters, should be referring to herself as a "safely 
folded lamb!" How impressive and suggestive the 
words of the Psalmist— « Thy way is in the sea, and 
Thy path in the great waters, and Thy footsteps are 
not known." And how soothing to a confiding heart 
the well-known lines of Cowper 

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 

But trust Him for His grace ; 
Behind a frowning providence 

He hides a smiling face. 

His purposes will ripen fast, 

Unfolding every hour ; 
The bud may have a bitter taste, 

But sweet will be the flower. 

Blind unbelief is sure to err, 

And scan His work in vain : 
God is His own interpreter, 

And He will make it plain. 

Sophia was seized with gastric fever, and for three weeks 
was chiefly confined to bed. On the last Sabbath but 



BRIEF NOTICE OF A SHORT LIFE. 



one of April, she was able to be oat of bed and relish 
a little food. For a few days she seemed to improve, 
and on the following Saturday was up during most 
of the day, and enjoyed herself much. After running 
nimbly across the room floor, she said, playfully, to a 
beloved friend and " mother in Israel," "You see, 
Grandma, that I can run yet."* 

This was her last little earthly journey ! Before re- 
tiring to rest, the writer said, " Shall we ask Jesus to 
take care of us?" To which she promptly replied 
"Yes!" — at the same time gently folding her hands. 
On the Sabbath morning, on being asked to repeat a 
favourite passage of Scripture, she did so; but, in a 
lower and peculiar tone of voice, quoted Proverbs viii. 
17, "I love them that love me; and those that seek 
me early shall find me," adding, after a pause, and in a 
whisper — " The Lord's my Shepherd!" On Monday 
evening it was evident that the solemn messenger — 
Death, was approaching. In the morning, her father, 
when alone with her, said, " Will Sophia give her papa 
a kiss]" She instantly clasped her hands around 
his neck, and with all the earnestness and pure affection 
of a loving child, embraced him! The voice of an all- 
wise, ever-kind Father was heard, at this inexpressibly 
trying moment, saying, "Be still, and know that I am 
God!" The writer was "dumb, and opened not his 
mouth," and submissively, though with a soreness of 

* Both loved ones now sleep together in the same grave, in the- 
Glasgow Necropolis ; the one having died in her fifth, the other in 
her eighty-fourth year. 



BRIEF NOTICE OF A SHORT LIFE. 



heart which cannot be expressed in words, silently 
took farewell of Sophia ! On leaving the house, for the 
labours of the day, he said to Him who hears even 

" The burthen of a sigh," 
when passing in sadness along the busy street, "The 
Lord gave, and the Lord is talcing away; blessed be 
the name of the Lord!" and mentally repeated the 
following favourite verses, with a mournful interest 
never before experienced : 

" Whate'er we fondly call our own 
Belongs to heaven's great Lord; 

The blessings lent us for a day 
Are soon to be restor'd. 

'Tis G-od that lifts our comforts high, 

Or sinks them in the grave; 
He gives; and, when He takes away, 

He takes but what He gave. 

Then, ever blessed be His name ! 

His goodness swell'd our store; 
His justice but resumes its own; 

'Tis ours still to adore. " 

In the course of the afternoon, her mother, observing 
her dear child getting worse, said, Ci I think Sophia is 
going to 'Gentle Jesus,'" when she faintly but dis- 
tinctly responded, " Yes, ma ! and you will come too." 
This was the last simple, intelligent sentence she 
uttered on earth. She lingered on for a short time, 
becoming gradually weaker, till at five o'clock on 
Thursday, the 1st of May, a lovely sunny morning, 
the spirit was wafted by angels to join the white-robed 



BRIEF NOTICE OP A SHORT LIFE. 



45 



company of youthful immortals " before the throne r * 
in heaven ! 

The following were Sophia's favourite passages of 
Scripture: — "I love them that love me; and those that 
seek me early shall find me " Create in me a clean 
heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me 
" The Lord is my shepherd." 

Her favourite hymns were the following, part of 
which she often sung in the evening, especially during 
the closing months of her brief but beautiful life :— 

Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, 
Look upon a little child; 
Help me, Lord, to come to Thee ! 
Let Thy blessing rest on me ! 



See the kind Shepherd, Jesus, stands, 

With all- engaging charms; 
Hark, how He calls the tender lambs, 

And folds them in His arms. 

"Permit them to approach," He cries, 
ISTor scorn their humble name; 

For 'twas to bless such souls as these 
The Lord of angels came. 

The feeblest lamb amidst the flock 
Shall be its Shepherd's care: 

While folded in the Saviour's arms, 
We're safe from every snare. 



There is a happy land, 

Far, far away, 
Where saints in glory stand, 

Bright, bright as day. 



46 



BRIEF NOTICE OF A SHORT LIFE. 



Oh how they sweetly sing, 
Worthy is our Saviour King; 

Loud let His praises ring 

Praise, praise for aye. 

Come to this happy land, 

Come, come away; 
Why will you doubting stand?— 

Why still delay? 
Oh we shall happy be, 
When, from sin and sorrow free, 
Lord, we shall live with Thee—' 

Blest, blest for aye. 

Bright in that happy land 

Beams every eye : 
Kept by a Father's hand, 

Love cannot die. 
On then to glory run; 
Be a crown and kingdom won; 
And bright above the sun 

Reign, reign for aye. 

This "Brief Notice" has been retained in the pre- 
sent edition with some hesitation. The writer feels as 
if it were too sacred for the public eye. It has been 
preserved chiefly for the benefit of those who have 
been called to mourn over the removal of beloved 
" little ones/' who will perhaps feel, in perusing the 
pieces which follow, that they have been collected by 
one who can enter sympathetically into their deep 
heart sorrow. 



LETTEES. 



The following are extracts from a few of the letters 
referred to in the preceding "Brief Notice :" — 

It is well with Sophia! She has gone to glory, and 
is now a safely folded lamb. The good Shepherd has 
taken her to Himself. You will greatly miss her, but 
your treasure is in heaven; and God has counted you 
worthy to have treasure there. You will find not the 
lost, but the living and redeemed one again : she is in 
good keeping. 

Yes, your clear child is better occupied now than 
ever she could have been here. You closed her eyes 
upon all this world's miseries and deep heart-sorrows; 
and she has already acquired more knowledge than she 
could have done in this world, though she had lived to 
close your eyes in death. She is crowned — she is fold- 
ed — safely gathered and housed; and could you hear 
her speak, she would say to mother and yourself, 
" Weep not !" and that voice would have all the sweet- 
ness of an angel's, and all the tenderness of your own 
Sophia, now glorified, redeemed, happy — infinitely 
happy. In taking your dear child, God has honoured 
you — blessed her beyond what we can express — glori- 
fied Himself — and added another gem to the Saviour's 
crown, another lamb to His flock in glory, another lily 



48 WOEDS OF COMFOBT. 

to His paradise above, another happy spirit to the 
redeemed throng,-and in doing so He has been but 
fulfilling His own promise: « with gladness and rejoic- 
ing shall they be brought: they shall enter into the 
King's palace. ' : — A. W., Glasgow, May, 1856. 

The pleasing evidence she has left behind her of bein- 
a lamb in the Saviour's fold, as it took out, for her, the 
sting from death, so it must take out, in a great mea- 
sure, for you, the sting from your bereavement. She 
is not lost, but gone before. The child is not dead, but 
sleepeth : or, rather, is wide awake to the blessed reality 
of glory, honour, and immortality. She is now rejoic- 
ing in the smile of Him who said to you, as yon clung 
to the departing object of your affections, as truly as He 
said to the disciples of old-" Suffer the little one to 
come unto me." It is His prerogative-and oh, what 
a comfort to the Christian parent to realize this clearly! 
-to » gather the lambs with His arm, and carry them 
m His bosom." He has nse for them in heaven If 
aged saints there are stars in His diadem, yonng spirits 
gathered thither in the bud, by virtue of His atoning 
merits, cluster like a garland of beauty around Him. 
We speak of getting our children settled in life; but 
how poor at the best is the meaning of this phrase com- 
pared with the plenitude of glorious significance it has 
m reference to the present circumstances of our be- 
loved children, now settled in life in the loftiest sense- 
exempted henceforth from all evil of every kind, and 
from all liability thereto, and, confirmed in holiness and 



LETTERS. 



in happiness throughout eternal ages ! It only remains 
for you to say with David, " We shall go to her, but 
she shall not return to us;" and by faith, patience^ 
resignation, and prayer for fresh supplies of that Spirit 
whose name is "the Comforter," to bow to " the 
mighty hand of God, and He will exalt you in due 
time." — J. G., Glasgow. 

Were it not that there is a wise, though sometimes 
hidden purpose in all these sad events which befall us 
in life, the bitter would more than neutralize the sweet- 
But when we know that all things work together for 
the good of those who love God, we can then say, un- 
der the hardest trial which can befall us in life, " Thy 
will be done." It is here that Christianity is found to 
stand in striking contrast to all other sources of solace. 

Whether a man be a Christian or an infidel, death 
to him must be a solemn event. We cannot sit down 
to our solitary meal beside the empty chair, long filled 
by one we loved, nor cast the eye upon the broken toy, 
the little picture book, or other relic of some dear de- 
parted child, without asking ourselves the serious ques- 
tion, Where is she now] We sigh, and then reply, 
She's dead! Here all feel in common, whether Christian 
or infidel. But what a difference in the train of 
thoughts which follow! to the latter, all that these 
words suggest, are the gloomy thoughts that she is lying 
in the grave — that her little bones are mouldering to 
dust in the neighbouring churchyard, and that she is 
now gone from him for ever. And his only source of 



50 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



comfort lies in the endeavour to sink all remembrance 
of her into the same oblivion. 

But to the Christian the words " she's dead " suggest 
to his mind the beautiful and soothing lines of the 

poet — 

" She is not lost, but gone before! 
Dying is but going home." 

And although it is true that "in Adam all die," 
yet it is equally true, " even so in Christ shall all be 
made alive." To the one death appears as the final 
end of all things — to the other it is but the gateway to 
life and immortality. — J. C, Glasgow. 

When you look on the miserable life and unhappy 
death of some poor unfortunate daughter of Adam, you 
will thank God that in early life, in the opening of her 
days, in the green and tender period of childhood, the 
great and merciful Father took her home to Himself. 
I have no hesitation in concluding that she is now, and 
will for ever continue to be, an inhabitant of the celes- 
tial city — a gem adorning the crown of Him who was 
once " a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." 
Whilst then the sorrows felt will be great, we must not 
sorrow as those who have no hope, but submit to the 
chastisement, neither despising it nor fainting under it. 
— A. E,., Hamilton. 

In your case, as it has been in many others, the can- 
kered touch of Death has caused a lovely flower to 
wither just when it was unfolding its beauties— his 



LETTEES. 



51 



haggard form has dissipated a fair vision of hope. But 
I must at the same time congratulate you on the con- 
fidence which you are warranted to indulge that she is 
now happy. Death may dissipate any hopes that relate 
to this world, but not the hope that is laid up in heaven. 
I am thankful that this hope is yours. — W. S.* 

It is not merely the duty of fellow-Christians to 
share in one another's sorrows — it is their sacred and 
solemn privilege. " How unsearchable are His judg- 
ments, and His ways past finding out." And yet, He 
doeth all things well. It is everything even now, that 
you " sorrow not as those who have no hope." She 
sleeps a sacred sleep : " Say not that the good die." 
The Lord is not now within the house, certainly, to say 
again, " Talitha-cumi, Damsel, I say unto thee, arise;" 
but He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. 
You will not forget that this child will He put before 
you when He makes up His jewels, quickening the 
vile body, and " fashioning it according to His own 
glorious body." 

I need not remind you very carefully, after what 
has happened, how blind and weak and deceitful it is 
to hope for any constancy in our earthly joys — how 
momentous for our earthly comfort even that we seek 
first, the kingdom of God and His righteousness. — 
J. C. D., Airedale College, Bradford. 

* The venerable Walter Scott, late President of Airedale College, 
Bradford, who died September 13, 1858, aged 80 years, of whom it 
might be appropriately said, " Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom 
is no guile !" 



52 



WOEDS OF COMFORT. 



The full confidence that she is now in heaven— exalted 
to angelic rank, and perfection, and glory,— that she is 
now mingling with the spirits of just men made perfect 
—and beholding the Lamb in the midst of the throne, 
—is sufficient to fill your heart with joy and thankful- 
ness, and your lips with praise. Your child has no 
desire to return to earth; and she joyfully anticipates 
the time when she shaU meet her parents at the pearly 
gates of the New J erusalem. I also have two daughters 
in heaven. Both died only four months old ! °They 
are now pure and perfect— and blessed spirits before 
the throne. It is very likely they have met your child 
apon the golden streets of the celestial city. A. V* 

*The late Bev. Dr. Alexander Fletcher, of Finsbury Chapel 
(one of my most valued friends), died at Portland Place, London, 
on Sabbath morning, September 30, I860, in the seventy-fourth 
year of his age, and fifty-fourth of his ministry. A beloved friend, 
in a note to the writer, shortly before his death, said, -His mind is 
in perfect peace: sweetly does he say to all, < Thy will be done!'" 
The same friend again writes— » Inexpressibly touching was the 
parting scene between dear Alexandria and her loving father! 
The last words of Scripture I read to him, were those of Isaiah in 
the sixth chapter. TThen I had finished, he told me to put a star 
at the 1st, 6th, and 7th verses:— 'In the year that king Uzziah 
died I saw also the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted tip, 

and His train filled the temple Then flew one of the 

seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had 
taken with the tongs from off the altar : And he laid it upon my 
mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy hps; and thine 
iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.' I think his very last 
words were, in the early part of the night, ' The glory that shall be 
hereafter! " " 



LETTERS. 



53 



Even at this, the eventide of your sorrow, is not God 
proving Himself faithful * giving you light to see that 
it would be the extreme of selfishness and cruelty to 
wish your little one back from the joy in which she 
rejoices, simply that you may be gratified by looking 
on her delicate and lovely form — and, what is worse, 
exposing yourself to the temptation of making her the 
object of actual though unintentional idolatry. 

Be it yours to say, "The Lord cloeth all things 
wisely and well." Although your bosom contained 
the affection of every father on earth, and your wife's 
bosom contained the affection of every mother, and 
although your united industry and assiduity were re- 
warded with the wealth of a world, you could not pro- 
vide a home for your departed child that could in any 
way compare with the " inheritance incorruptible, and 
undefiled, and that fadeth not away." 

It was a hard wrench on your tenderest part which 
separated you from the object of your affections; but 
in that very trial, there was secured for you increased 
treasure in that place where neither moth nor rust 
doth corrupt, nor thieves break through to steal. 

If the child's absence makes your home look more 
desolate than it used to be, heaven has been rendered 
more than correspondingly rich and attractive. And 
what untold influence is brought to bear upon you to 
seek a better country, when to the voice of the 
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, there is added that 
of your completely holy and happy child, saying, 
"Be ye followers of them who, through faith and 

i 



^ WORDS OF COMFORT. 

patience, now inherit the promises ! "— W. W., Lang- 
holm, Dumfriesshire. 

Again, again, again, and again, have I stood by the 
dying bed of dearly beloved children,— held their flut- 
tering pulse— watched their quivering lips— caught 
the last words which escaped from them, as "the gates 
of death " opened to receive their spirits, and in an 
instant shut them out from my view— and have felt my 
own heart-strings almost like to break— and yet, have 
thanked God for their release. These, dear friends, 
are solemn seasons. How difficult to say from the 
heart, "not my will but Thine be done!" At such 
times I have, as I doubt not you have, been thrown 
back upon the great principles of the divine govern- 
ment and benevolent purposes of God. I never saw 
such a fulness, nor felt such a power in the following 
text, as when called to part with a lovely daughter of 
five years of age, viz. :— « All things work together for 
good to them that love God."—W. R, Bury, Lancashire. 

I trust that you will find the consolations that are 
m Christ Jesus abounding toward you, and that you 
will learn to say « It is well. 5 ' You have one tie more 
to the world of spirits, and one tie less to the world of 
bodies. — J. M., Glasgow. 

In a recent note from the same friend, he inciden- 
tally, refers to the following affecting case:— I was 
yesterday at the funeral of a little one, who was pre- 
sented by his father for baptism just one year ago last 
Sabbath, and who was left fatherless just one year ago 



LETTERS. 



55 



to-morrow. The widowed mother had the little body 
bestrewed with beautiful flowers, and, being of intense 
sensibility, could not reconcile her feelings to part with 
the remains, until I brought, as vividly as I could be- 
fore her mind, that it was not her son whom we were 
about to bun/. Her son was absent from the body and 
present with the Lord. It was but the dust which we 
were about to commit reverently and lovingly to the 
kindred dust. She grasped afresh the glorious reality, 
and was stayed ! 

Your loss must be severe, but, like all God's thun- 
der-showers, it sheds refreshment amidst seeming ruin. 
I trust God, who orders all things for the best, will 
make you ultimately look at the loss of your dear 
child as a gain, and to find that black card ultimately 
a token for and of good. — G. G., Dundee. 

This week last year, my heart was first called to 
bleed under a stroke similar to your own. Oh it is 
when the land is most weary, that " the shadow of the 
great Rock" is broadest, coolest, sweetest! — and it is 
where the scythe of death has been, that the dews of 
the Comforter come most copiously down. With so 
many ties less to earth, and so many treasures more in 
heaven, let us live devoted to Him who died devoted 
for us! — J. R, Newington, Edinburgh. 

Remember the dear one is not lost — only gone before, 
and you have only had your living gem taken, because 



56 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



God is making up His jewels above, May His presence 
be with you as the bow in the cloud— the pillar of fire 
in the night of your tribulation, is the fervent prayer 
of, dear friends, yours ever, — J". P. C, Bradford. 

I do not wonder— says the venerable and highly es- 
teemed Dr. B. Godwin, Bradford— that you dwell with 
feeling so intense on the bereavement which you have 
suffered. I have known what such feelings are, and 
now, at the distance of more than forty years, they 
return, though mellowed and softened by the lenient 
hand of time. May God mercifully vouchsafe aU the 
support you need, and sanctify by His grace what is 
necessarily so painful to nature ! 

Steadily keep in view the thought that you have 
parted with your child only for a season; and that now 
she is alive, only not here; and that gives comfort,— 
P. B. P., Abbey Wood, Kent. 

Forget not that heaven is not a place where hearts 
grow cold. The departed ones love us still. They 
have lost nothing but the sorrows and infirmities which 
excited our compassion whilst they were with us. They 
form part of the "great cloud of witnesses.' > Jesus is the 
connecting link between them and us!— J. D. B., Bradford. 



INFANT SALTATION, 



REV. DR. WILLIAM ANDERSON, GLASGOW. 

I now turn to the consideration of the case of such 
as die in infancy. These form by far the greatest 
proportion of Redeemed Spirits. And when the 
heart of the Christian is ready to fail within him for 
grief, when among adult men and women he can 
discover so little which will reward the Redeemer 
for the travail of His soul, how reviving it is to look 
upward, and contemplate the innumerable multitude 
of those who were rescued in infancy from the 
corrupting power of the world, and safely secured for 
Himself in His heavenly pavilion ! It is astonish- 
ing on the one hand, that there should be found so 
many who have dark misgivings of heart on the 
subject of the salvation of these infants; and, on 
the other, that among those who do not question it, 
so little account should be taken of them in estimat- 
ing the glory of the kingdom — despising these little 
ones, and scarcely reckoning them in the number 
of the Saved : whereas it would be a less improper 
way of calculation to say, that the kingdom belongs 



WOitDS OF COMFORT. 



to children, and that the adults who are saved are a 
few who are admitted to a share of their inheritance. 

Observe, therefore, in the First place, that, with 
regard to the deceased infant children of believers, 
their salvation, at least, is as sure as the salvation of 
the parents themselves. What was the promise worth, 
yea, what did it mean, if it contained nothing for the 
spirits of his infant offspring, when the Lord said to 
Abraham, the type of all believing parents, "I will 
establish in}- covenant between me and thee, to be a 
God unto thee, and to thy seed after thee," and com- 
manded that they should be circumcised, as well as 
himself, as a token of their interest in the promised 
salvation? Are not the blessings of God especially 
blessings for eternity? "Wherefore God is not 
ashamed to be called their God, for He hath prepared 
for them a city." And can infants renounce the God 
of their parents, as those may do who have grown up 
to years of personal responsibility ? Oh, happy child- 
ren, ye who were laid hold of by the Redeemer and 
appropriated to Himself, before ye could apostatize 
like your wretched brothers and unhappy sisters, who 
have broken the household covenant and abjured the 
family's Saviour! Then, said I to the father and 
mother as they wept, your children who have died are 
a better portion to you than those who live : weep for 
the living and not for the dead : it is the living you 
have lost; the dead are safely reserved for you. — Again, 
when believing parents made their way so earnestly 
through the obstructing disciples, to place their chil- 



INFANT SALVATION. 



dren before the Redeemer that He might bless them, 
what otherwise was His reception of them worth, yea, 
what did it mean, when " He was much displeased" 
with his disciples, " and said unto them, Suffer the little 
children to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for ox 
such is the kingdom of God," and then, " took them up 
in His arms, put His hands upon them, and blessed 
them f If any of these children had presently died — 
and there can be little doubt that some of them did 
die in childhood— how rain it had been for them to be 
blessed by the Redeemer, if there be no heavenly 
inheritance for those who die in early years ! 

It is most injurious, however, to the cause of infants, 
to plead it on ground so low as this. Instead of 
merely vindicating their admission, and some con- 
sideration for them, I regard them as being generally 
the best welcomed spirits which pass into the eternal 
world. The whole of our Lord's treatment of them 
is calculated to produce this impression. Besides, 
contemplating the subject in the light of reason — 
is not the intellectual and moral structure, I ask, of 
An infant's spirit the same as that of a full-grown 
man's ? And who shall dispute, that some of the 
brightest geniuses and most amiable hearts of our 
race may have been withdrawn — in the love and 
valuation of them withdrawn — after a short time's 
breathing of the pestilential air of this earth, yea, 
before a breath of it was inhaled, to be secured and 
nursed in the Paradise of God 1 As I think of it, I 
become the more persuaded, that this securing of many 



GO 



WOKDS OF COMFORT. 



of the best by early death, may be a principle of the 
divine administration. It is true, they passed away 
without having acquired any of this world's learning; 
but irrespectively of God's standard of measurement 
being a moral one, how insignificant, I appeal, will 
not even Newton's science appear in yonder Temple 
of Light! Will the infant spirit have any sense of 
inferiority from the want of it? Will it appear dis- 
respectable for the want of it in the estimation of 
the Eternal One?— It is true, again, that they passed 
away without any prayers in which their infant knees 
had bowed ; and without any psalms of praise which 
their infant lips had sung; but what, brethren, I, a 
second time, appeal, is the chief characteristic of a 
religious life in this world? Is it not to have our 
hearts brought back to their infant state 1 To have 
them cleansed of these pollutions, and divested of these 
perverse habits which we have contracted since we 
were like these children, who were early withdrawn 
from the corrupting influences to which we have been 
exposed ? Accordingly, Christ's great lesson for us is, 
Learn to be like a child.— And, a third time, if there 
are a few deeds of charity, of the performance of 
which we can speak for ourselves, O, is it not all 
more than counterbalanced when these infants can 
plead in reply, that they were guilty of no envious 
thoughts, no bitter or slanderous speeches, no impure 
imaginations or devices, no fretfulness against the 
Providence of God— of nothing at all which can be 
charged against them as either a dereliction or trans- 



IXFAXT SALVATION. 



Gl 



gression of duty ! Who of us shall presume to compare 
himself with an infant, or forbid that its spirit go to 
the Saviour of its pious father, or the Saviour of its 
pious mother ? 

In the Second place, with regard to those children 
dying in infancy who are the offspring of ungodly 

parents equally of such do I believe, that they shall 

all be saved ; though not with a salvation so glorious 
as that of the offspring of the saints. It is not by any 
means for the relief of the anxiety of those wicked 
parents that I express myself thus confidently about 
the salvation of their children; but for magnifying the 
grace of God, and rejoicing the hearts of the saints 
on the subject of the magnificence of the Redeemer's 

kingdom, and the splendour of His reward 

We claim them for the kingdom. When the Son of 
God was incarnated, He became these infants' Brother; 
and when they have not rejected Him, will He disown 
them % 

Some feel coldly towards the doctrine of the salvation 
of all deceased infants, of whatever parentage, because 
it seems to them to equalize the righteous and the 
wicked, in respect of a matter of such importance as 
hope for the welfare of offspring. This is a mistake.— 
There are few points within the compass of Theology 
on which my mind has arrived at a conclusion so settled 
as that the divine government regards, with special 
favour, the offspring of its loyal subjects, as distin- 
guished from the offspring of rebels. The principle 
pervades the Scripture, and recommends itself alike as 



62 WORDS OF COMFOI 



one of equity and prudent policy. But when I believe 
this, consistency does not shut me up to the opinion, 
that the distinction is to be made by inflicting misery 
on the latter party. My consistency is preserved if, 
when I believe that the child of the rebel shall be* 
admitted into the kingdom, I, at the same time, believe 
that the child of the faithful shall be advanced to a 
higher station of honour. That, accordingly, is the 
state of my belief. My whole soul revolts from the 
idea of the damnation of the suckling infant of the 
fiercest atheistic father, and the most debased drunken 
mother, or of the child of worse parentage still— of him 
who has done the villain's part by his married friend, 
and of her who might as well have poisoned her 
husband. 0, save the infant, though the adulterer 
and his paramour perish; yea, rather the more, became 
they perish : If Satan gain the father and mother, let 
Christ have the child.— But much as my feelings 
revolt from the idea of the perdition of the infant 
seed of the wicked, with little less abhorrence do 
they revolt from the idea of that child of infidel or 
adulterous birth having equal favour shown him in 
the distribution of heavenly honours, with that which 
is shown the child of the pious father and mother, who 
walk loyally in the ways of the divine commandment ; 
and who have devoted their child with such earnest- 
ness of prayer to the Lord, in the benediction of the 
like of which the other has had no part. Partiality, 
or unequal government, would lie in making no dis- 
tinction betwixt those who are so differently circum- 



INFANT SALTATION. 



03 



stanced. And then, instead of the child of evil-doers 
grudging the preference to the higher honours which 
is made of his loyally-descended fellow -citizen, he will 
he filled with gratitude in reflecting, that he, when of 
rehel-hirth, should have obtained a place in the king- 
dom at all, though comparatively of inferior glory. — 
Christian brethren, see that you act not a treacherous 
part, either to yourselves or your children, in denying 
your hearts to this noble ambition. There is reason 
for suspecting, that that man is conscious of himself 
being unfaithful, who affects the charity of having no 
desire that his offspring be advanced above the offspring 
of the wicked, in the awarding of the honours of the 
heavenly kingdom. He must be apprehensive, that 
the distinction would operate rather to the prejudice of 
his own children, than the advancement of their glory.""" 



Ax Important Suggestion. — Whilst engaged in re- 
vising the second edition, an esteemed missionary, the 
Rev. Dr. George Turner, who has laboured zealously 
and successfully for a quarter of a century in Polynesia, 
sent the writer a note, in which he says :— " I would 
just mention one thing that strikes me, on a subject not 
often thought about, but yet at times deeply interesting 
to parties concerned— I allude to infants who die before 

* " I refer," says Dr. Anderson, t; such as are desirous of seeing an 
argumentative discussion of the subject of the salvation of all dying 
in infancy, to the valuable essay of Dr. Russell of Dundee."— Dis- 
course by the Rev. Vvm. Anderson, LL.D., on the "Re-union of 
Christian Friends in the Heavenly Kiugdom." Published, 184-1. 



64 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



ever e breathing of the pestilential air of this earth.' I 
recollect speaking a word of comfort to a pious lady 
who mourned over a lovely, but still-born son, and told 
her to think of her dear child as a happy spirit before 
the throne. Some days afterwards, I heard that another 
individual had been throwing out hints of a clamping 
character respecting the case of such infants. I sent 
her a copy of 6 Words of Comfort/ and directed special 
attention to the words of Dr. Anderson, quoted above, 
to show that in my more cheering and consolatory 
view of the subject I did not stand alone. If you have 
at hand any other paragraph on this aspect of the 
subject, I think you should introduce it.'' In compli- 
ance with this suggestion, we gladly quote the following 
remarks from Dr. Anderson's able work on Eeo-enera- 

o 

tion : — 

In the sketch of the doctrine of Original Sin, I 
have shown on what principle infants, as well as others, 
require the renovation ; so that only a few additional 
observations are necessary. — Dr. Payne, in his Lectures 
on Divine Sovereignty, etc., has made the following 
judicious distinction : " In the full sense of the term 
regeneration, the sense in which it is used in reference 
to an adult, comprehending the whole of that moral 
change which has been described, infants do not need, 
and are, indeed, incapable of regeneration. In infants 
there are no mistaken apprehensions of divine things 
to be corrected ; no actually unholy affections towards 
them to be subdued and removed; for, in the mind of 
an infant there are, in reference to these things, no 



ISFAXT SALVATION. 00 



apprehensions and no affections of any description." 
He then proceeds to state, that, "as far as they need 
regeneration, they are regenerated." Now, we have 
formerly seen, with considerable distinctness, what 
this need is ;— it is a restoration to their minds of the 
connexion of the Spirit, "which," as the same author 
has well expressed it, "will ensure a holy exercise of 
the powers of their minds, when they become capable 
of moral perceptions and affections." I am not curious 
to enquire when this connexion may be established. 
It may be effected in the womb : and especially in the 
case of the child of pious parents. What is stranger in 
the idea of this, than in the idea of the soul itself being 
communicated there I Let those, therefore, who mock 
at the one, mock at the other also.— Or, the connexion 
mav be effected at the moment of death. This is 
probably the general law : and let those who mock at 
this again, mock at the idea also of the infant spirit 
being apprehended of the divine mercy at all, and con- 
veved into the heavenly paradise. What know you of 
the conditions of an immortal spirit as it leaves the 
body, and of the manner of God's dealings with it, that 
you should so limit either His power or His grace as 
to pronounce such a regeneration impossible ? All the 
saints rejoice in Him as a God " doing wonders." * 

Dr. Hacfarlane likewise observes in " Why Weepest 
ThouF— " Yea, even before birth, while in the womb, 
grace may begin its work. We read of some who 

•Degeneration. By William Anderson, LL.D. Edinburgh: Adam 
k Charles Black. 18C1. 



CG 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



have been 'sanctified from the womb;' and all the 
accounts we have of such men as Samuel, Jeremiah, 
J ohn the Baptist, and Timothy, warrant us in applying 
this scripture to them. Though infants, they have 
immortal souls." 

"He who imparted," says Dr. Russell, "His moral 
likeness to man immediately at his creation, and gave 
His Holy Spirit to J ohn while in his mother's woml^ 
ought not to be limited."' 



REV. DR. JAMES MORISON, GLASGOW. 

Infinite wisdom has determined that trouble, of one 
description or another, shall constitute part of the 
discipline to which every human being must be sub- 
jected. In the present provisional state of things,, 
afflictive dispensations " must needs be." 

We do not at present inquire why it is that this 
element of suffering interpenetrates to so large an 
extent the fabric of human society. We take our 

position upon the undisputed and indisputable fact 

that trouble, in one form or another, is universal; and, 
withdrawing our attention from all other developments 
of this ubiquitous ingredient in human life, we fix it 
upon one of the most painful forms in which it is 
found, and over the bier of the departed infant we 
would ask, " Is it well with the child ? " 

Tender as are the ties that bind the parental heart 
to those little undeveloped but ever-developing Living 



INFANT SALVATION. G < 



Objects which enable parents to realise that they are 
parents, these very ties are destined to be often 
aaomzinglv raptured. Comparatively few are the 
household; in which there have not been "mourning 
and bitterness" for some child that was, and is not. 
Many are the Rachels who have been bowed down 
under bereaving affliction, and have wept, and "refused 
to be comforted," because their sons or their daughters 
"are not." The " places that once knew" multitudes 
of dear little Miniatures of fathers and mothers, now 
« know them no more." And fathers and mothers go 
about the streets mourning; or, refusing consolation, 
they languish in retirement. 

But is there no balm for the wound of bereaved 
parents 1 Is there no physician to heal their broken 
spirit? There is a physician, all-skilful to cure. _ He 
has a balm which is the very essence and elixir of 
consolation :-« It is well with the child." The child is 
not lost, but gone before. Its " death is gain." Though 
it is "absent from the body," it is "present with the 
Lord," which is "far better." It is in "Abrahams 
bosom." And what is grander still, it is in the bosom 
of Infinite Love. Its voice to its parents, if that voice 
could be heard by earthly ears, would be, "Weep not 
for me." Such is our deliberate opinion concerning 
departed little ones. 

There is a positive foundation on which the doctrine 
of the everlasting bliss of all who die in infancy may 
be securely built up. 

(1) It may be proved from the fact that, in come- 



68 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



quenceofthe interposition of the worl: of Christ, there is 
to be a universal resurrection of the bodies of men. It 
will be admitted that there was no provision made 
for the resurrection of the bodies of men except in 
the restorative dispensation of mercy through Christ. 
As it is "in Adam" that all die, so is it "in Christ" 
alone that all shall be made alive again. It is the 
"second Adam" who is the Cause, or Occasion, of the 
universal resurrection. 

But in the resurrection of the body and its re-union 
to the soul, there will be to the glorified avast addition 
to their means of bliss ; and there will be to the lost a 
vast addition to their vroe. The bodily organism must, 
according to the condition in which it is placed, minister 
largely to the happiness or to the misery of the soul. 
€an we suppose, then, that any of those who die in 
infancy, and who have never had the opportunity of 
rejecting the propitiation of Christ, will be subjected, 
on account of that gracious work, to greater woes than 
they would have been called to endure, had there been 
no Saviour at all? Can we suppose that Christ will 
be an unmitigated and inevitable curse to any of 
mankind? Surely we cannot cherish such a sup- 
position, when we remember that He came into the 
world not to condemn it, but to save and to bless 
it. But if we cannot cherish such a supposition, 
we cannot suppose that any infants dying in infancy 
will be lost. 

(2) This reasoning is fortified by the express teaching 
cf our Lord himself. We learn from the Gospels, as 



INFANT SALTATION. 



6^ 



for example from Matt six. 13, that on a certain 
occasion there we brought to Him "little children," 
that He might put his hands on them and bless them. 
His disciples rebuked the parents. But Jesus said, 
" Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid 
them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven " This 
does not seem to mean « for of persons resembling little 
children is the kingdom of heaven." The term ren- 
dered "of such" has naturally a demonstrative import. 
Our Saviour elsewhere employs it when He says, "The 
hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers 
shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth; for the 
Father seeketh such to worship Him ;" that is, " seeketh 
these to worship Him." It occurs in many other 
portions of the New Testament with the same demon- 
strative import, as for example in Acts xxii. 22, in 
which passage we learn that the Jews in Jerusalem 
cried out on a certain occasion, in reference to Paul, 
"away with such a fellow from the earth;" that is, 
"away with this fellow from the earth." Jesus then 
means " for of these is the kingdom of heaven." " The 
kingdom of heaven belongs to little children." This 
interpretation is confirmed by the consideration that 
we should otherwise be at a loss to discover any 
peculiar propriety in our Saviour's action, when He 
took up the little ones in His arms and blessed them. 
If the reason of His procedure resolved itself simply 
into the fact that the adult subjects of the kingdom of 
heaven are childlike, the same reason might have led 
Him to take up lambs in His arms and bless them, 



a. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



inasmuch as the adult subjects of His kingdom are 
lamb-like as well as child-lika 

It is true that it is added, in Mark x. lo, that our 
Saviour said, after blessing the little children, " Verily 
I say unto you, whosoever shall not receive the king- 
dom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." 
But still even here, it is supposed that the kingdom of 
heaven belongs to little children : for when it is said 
" whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a 
little child,'" the meaning surely must be, "as a little 
child receives it." Whosoever shall not receive the king- 
dom of God without seeking to present anything of the 
nature of personal meritoriousness, shall in nowise enter 
therein. 

If it should be said that " the kingdom of heaven" 
spoken of by our Lord is the kingdom of heaven upon 
earth, we would reply, that the kingdom of heaven is 
not entirely upon earth. . It is partly and principally 
in heaven. And, moreover, if there be no obstacles to 
the infant's admission into the earthly province of the 
heavenly empire, there can be none to its admission 
into that larger and more glorious province above, 
which, from its vastitude and vast pre-eminence, gives 
the denomination to the whole domain. 

(3) We might add to these considerations the fact that 
throughout the Scriptures God is frequently represented as 
cherishing a special regard for little children. We see this 
in the rebuke administered to Jonah, — "And should 
I not spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more 
than sixseore thousand persons that cannot discern 



INFANT SALVATION. 



71 



between their right hand and their left hand." We 
see it in the words of Jeremiah xix. 4, " They have 
filled this place with, the blood of innocents." And 
again, in the words of Joel ii. 16, " Gather the people, 
sanctify the congregation, assemble the elders, gather 
the children and those that suck the breasts, etc., then will 
the Lord be jealous for the land, and pity his people." 
And in Ezekiel xvi. 21, God calls the little children of 
the Israelites His children, and pours terrible denuncia- 
tions upon the people for causing them to pass through 
the fire to Moloch :— ei Thou hast slain my children, 
and delivered them to cause them to pass through 
the fire." 

On the whole, then, every line of Scripture-truth, 
when we follow it out undeviatingly, leads us up 
to the conclusion, that "it is well" with all the 
"little children," who have been carried away from 
the infolding arms, though not from the infolding 
hearts and memories, of bereaved parents. They have 
been taken up "higher." They have been committed 
to wiser and more tender keeping. "Their angels" 
have got them : and in the immediate vicinity of the 
throne, they are undergoing a training, which is 
absolutely free from all those elements of imperfec- 
tion, winch might have resulted in moral deviation, 
defilement, and death, had they remained on the earth. 
" It is well." 



72 



WORDS OF COHFOET. 



REV, GEORGE GILFILLAN, DUNDEE. 
" The promise is unto you and to your children." — (Acts ii. 39.) 

The cliarm of childhood — who lias not felt it— although 
it may not always be easy to analyse its elements. 
Some of them, however, are obvious enough, and are 
found in the young of all animals, and in all youthful 
things. The full-grown tree has much beauty, but 
more still belongs to the tender sapling, which the 
snow almost breaks as it descends upon it, and which 
seems so helpless, yet interesting, in its infancy. The 
full-blown rose is a gorgeous object, but sweeter still 
the rosebud, peering out timidly through its half- 
opened eye into the strange atmosphere of earth, and 
making you cry with the poet, 

t; Sweet flower, thou rt opening on a world 
Of sin and misery ; 
But this at least consoles my mind, 
They cannot injure thee." 

The river, mature in age, swelled by a hundred tri- 
butaries, arisen in flood, and raging in wrath from 
bank to brae, may be a sublime sight ; but surely it is 
more attractive in its youth, when a narrow strip of 
green, amidst barren moors, is its only boundary, and 
one star reflected on it from the proud heavens, is its 
sole companion. You tremble at the eagle, swooping 
and screaming through the upper ether, with the 
lightning in his eye, and the lamb in his talons ; but 
you love to look at the young eaglet, lying secure in its 



INFANT SALVATION. 



73 



lofty eyrie, and expecting the arrival of its food-bearing 
father. The old sparrow is a thief— and, as such, de- 
tested — but the young sparrow is the favourite and pet 
of the child — herself a pet and a favourite. The sheep 
seems silly enough, while bleating in her pastures, and 
running away when no one pursueth; but how lovely 
and dear the lamb, suddenly appearing by her mother's 
side, as if dropped from one of the white spring clouds, 
or meekly following in her train, even though it be to 
slaughter and death ! And so with the children of the 
human family. Coming out of the awful cloud of 
darkness which enshrouds birth, they come out as 
stars. Taken out of earth's lowest parts, they shine 
forth as gems of the purest water, and the brightest 
colours. Bursting up, as it were, from the bowels of 
the world, they burst up as nowers of the sweetest 
fragrance and the most variegated hues. Purity, sim- 
plicity, instinct, and unconsciousness, compose at first 
the elements of a child's existence. There it lies — 
like a thing of heaven and eternity, amidst the bustle 
and care, and evil, of the world — nourished on smiles, 
turning, sweet satellite ! round the orb of its mother's 
face — sending up aimless, but beautiful smiles of its 
own both when awake and when asleep — and dream- 
ing that " strangest of all things, an infant's dream." 
In what innocence it is wrapped — as if in swaddling- 
bands of snow! rTo envy wrinkles that smooth brow 
— no lust and no hatred lurk in that heart— no fury 
burns in that clear, mild eye — its only food is milk, 
and its only sin is tears. In what blessed ignorance 

F 



74 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



it dwells ! It knows not of God — but neither does it 
know of His grand foe. It knows not of good — but 
neither does it know of evil. The alarm of war 
it never heard — the blood-spotted and tear-stained 
records of the sad history of humanity it never read — 
of the folly, falsehood, cruelty, impiety, and madness, 
which dwell in the heart and blacken the life of man, 
it is altogether unaware; and yonder spring rosebud, 
first meeting the smile of the light, is not more uncon- 
scious of the rude realities of the world than that 
newly-budded babe. Beautiful all this; but there is a 
period a little farther on when the child becomes more 
interesting far; that is when the soul awakes within 
it — and the coming forth of the evening star from a 
mass of clouds is not so beautiful as the first awaking 
of immortal mind in a child's eye; and when the heart 
awakes within it, and its smiles are no longer undis- 
tinguishing and no longer aimless, but become deeper 
in their significance, while equally sincere — and the 
understanding awakes within it, and proceeds to ask 
questions which no philosophy and no theology have 
yet been able to resolve- — and the power of speech 
awakes within it, and its tongue overflows with that 
artless but piercing prattle which is more delightful 
than the murmur of streams, than the bleat of lambs, 
or than the stir of wind -swept flowers; because, while 
equally unconscious and equally musical, it is full of 
articulation, of meaning, and of love. 

Yet, lovely as childhood is, it is often doomed to 
die. It often fades early — and is carried from the 



INFANT SALVATION. 



75 



cradle, or the nursery, to the grave. And, partly 
owing to this, and partly owing to that craving after 
the knowledge of the future state natural to man, the 
question has been often asked, Are all children dying 
in infancy saved] And as, notwithstanding the strong 
probability which the affirmative answer to this ques- 
tion bears on its very front, there may be, and probably 
are still, some who may have difficulties on the subject, 
I propose in the remainder of this paper to bring 
forward some reasons for holding the cheering view of 
the subject which I have long held, and frequently 
advocated. 

Let me first, then, explain what I mean by Infant 
Salvation. I understand by it, then, the removal, 
through some real, though mysterious process, of the 
germ of sin which is in every child, and its prepara- 
tion thus for the final communion of the blest. The 
very conception of infant condemnation, as I shall shew 
afterwards, is utterly hideous and incredible. But, 
though an infant might not be condemned, it does not 
follow that it should be saved. Salvation is an act of 
grace— of grace received by adults through faith— but 
conveyed through some other channel, as I believe, to 
all dying in infancy. I do not mean by infant salva- 
tion that infants are saved by what is called the 
general mercy of God. That might insure against 
perdition, but could not be trusted to for salvation. 
No doubt 

" 'Tis from the mercy of our God 
That all our hopes begin"— 



76 



WOKDS OF COMFGKT. 



But that mercy He lias chosen to exhibit to us through 

o 

the medium of an Atonement— and the benefits of that 
Atonement I believe to be in some wondrous way 
extended to children — securing to them not merely 
safety, but sanctification; not merely immunity from 
evil, but everlasting happiness. I do not mean by 
infant salvation the salvation of those only who are 
baptized. I strongly scout — ever have scouted, and 
ever shall scout — the absurd belief, which even yet 
prevails among many professing Christians, that a 
child unbaptized must perish — that baptism and salva- 
tion are the same thing. I have often been asked, and 
asked by women with tears in their eyes and horror in 
their hearts, to come away in haste and baptize dying 
babes, lest they should perish for ever. But, although it 
was with pain to my own feelings, as well as to theirs, 
I have always refused. Yes — I felt pain — but it was 
a pain compounded of sympathy with their grief and 
of pity for their ignorance ; and I have felt tempted 
to say to this and the other applicant — " Good woman, 
go home— baptize thy child with tears — and these 
warm tears, coming from the living heart, will be of as 
much service as the cold waters of baptism — go home ; 
and while weeping, be thankful, too, that thy child 
is passing away so soon and so spotlessly from a world 
of such woe and wickedness as this." Is or do I mean 
that only the children of pious parents are to be saved ; 
although, for their safety there is a double, nay, ten- 
fold pledge — and godly parents alone, I fear, can fully 
realize or appreciate what is implied in the salvation 



INFANT SALVATION. 



77 



of their children. But I mean, by infant salvation, the 
salvation, in the broadest sense, of all the children who 
have died without having come to the age of perfect 
responsibility, or whoever shall die before arriving at 
this age. There are difficulties as to when the age of 
infancy exactly ends, and that of perfect responsibility 
definitely begins; but the general principle and fact 
are clear enough, without any fine and hair-splitting 
distinctions. 

We might have pled the cause of infant salvation 
by many minor arguments ; from the hard case their 
perdition would imply; from the very look of these 
tender younglings of the race of man; from their 
death, as being taken away from the evil to come; 
and from the instincts of the human heart. 

But let us come to the Law and the Testimony and 
ask, What saith the Book ? Now, the Book at first 
sight seems to say nothing at all upon the subject 
Nowhere do I find the declaration in so many words, 
"All infants are to be saved." But neither do we 
find, in so many words, such declarations as "The 
soul is immortal. Infants may be baptized. Women 
may sit at the Lord's Table. There is a Trinity." 
Doth the Book, then, say nothing on such subjects 1 
yea, it doth; and we can gather its meaning either by 
implication or by direct deduction. And so in refer- 
ence to the question in hand. We argue the salva- 
tion of infants, First, — From the spirit of the Book. 
Secondly, — From the revealed character of God. 
Thirdlv, — From the glorious sufficiency of the death 



7S 



WORDS OF COMFORT, 



of Christ. Fourthly, — From the interest Scripture 
takes in cliildren. Fifthly, — From some remarkable 
individual promises. And in fine, — From the example 
and language of the Lord Jesus Christ. And, first, 
From the spirit of the Bible. "What is that spirit ] Is 
it not a gentle, a peaceful, a kind, almost an infantine 
spirit 1 The writers of Scripture were simple as chil- 
dren, yet wise as divine inspiration could make them. 
And this kindly simplicity they have transferred to 
their writings. Their wrath, when awakened, burns 
against obstinate transgressors; not against the infant 
of days, but against the sinner a hundred years old. 
And if you would see this spirit in its perfection, read 
the 12th of Romans, or the 13th of 1st Corinthians — 
the epistles of John, or the pleadings of the ancient 
prophets — those eloquent, tender, broken-hearted 
pleadings with sinners — and ask yourselves, could that 
spirit have been inspired by a God who would place 
eternal obstructions between infants and salvation? 

We argue it again from the character of God. You 
need not be told what that is. It is that of a Merciful 
Being — of a Father — of one whose name is Love — in 
such a sense, that even His wrath is love — that even 
His justice is love — that all His perfections crowd in 
and form that grand central love which is His essence 
and all. And when His anger is awakened, against 
whom does it smoke ? Not against children, but 
against transgressors adult in age, obstinate in rebellion, 
unwearied in wickedness, who have rejected His terms 
of salvation and sinned against great light and many 



INFANT SALVATION. 



79 



privileges. How irresistibly arises the question, Is it 
possible that a God who wishes all to be saved can 
refuse infants admission into His kingdom ?— that He 
who has no pleasure in the blood of bulls and goats, 
has pleasure in the perdition of lamb-like infants— 
none in the death of him that dieth— going down by 
his own voluntary act into the pit— and yet hath in 
that of those who have never been offered and never 
refused salvation] Perish for ever such hard, foul, 
and blasphemous conceptions of God ! 

But, again, I argue it from the glorious sufficiency 
of the Death and Atonement of Christ. Sufficient for 
all, as all now grant that atonement to be, it must be 
sufficient for infants. It follows, therefore, that infants 
may be saved— that there is sufficient groundwork laid 
in Christ for their acceptance. Christ, it is admitted 
has died for some infants— but why not for all ]— 
and if for all— since none can by unbelief put them- 
selves beyond the pale of salvation— why should not 
all be saved ] Supposing a taint of sin, somehow 
connected with the child, has not Christ died to take 
that taint away] Supposing the dying infant destitute 
of what is called " original righteousness," has not 
Christ, by His obedience, wrought out, and brought in 
a robe so ample as to be able to supply its every defi- 
ciency, and to clothe all its n; keiness 1 ? 

But, again, think of the interest the Book of God 
takes in children. No term occurs more frequently 
than children. It sparkles like a sunbeam in every 
page. No promise is uttered but it is immediately 



80 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



extended to children. « How shall I put thee among 
the children? " is God's great point of enquiry. Child 
of God is His highest title of honour, The Bible may 
be called "The Child's own Book." It contains more 
than any book in the world matter peculiarly adapted 
for young minds and young hearts— and its juvenile 
heroes, Samuel, Abijah, Timothy, and the rest, are 
among the most interesting of all its characters. How 
strange all this ! did God look upon all infants as pos- 
sessing no beauty to be desired, and no capacities of 
moral excellence ? Many theologians in the past, and 
perhaps a few still, look upon the young in this light, 
apparently not seeing that such a feeling to children of 
the same family with themselves, reduces them below 
the level of the ferine creation. The serpent loves its 
young — the tiger cherishes her cubs — the gorilla is 
proud of the minor miscreations which spring from 
him — but these theologians would, were they following 
out their doctrines to their legitimate conclusions, 
blame and blast, would scorn and hate, and if they 
could, would burn with fire, beings that possess their 
own common nature of humanity. 

Bemember, again, some special promises made to 
infants in the Word of God. Children, says David, 
are God's heritage — His own peculiar and chosen pos- 
session. The promise is to you and to your children. 
To your children more fully than to you. It is to 
you if you accept it. It is to your children, without 
any exception or reservation wdiatever. And how 
often are we told in Scripture to imitate children. In 



INFANT SALVATION. 



81 



malice be ye children— implying that that foul plant 
0 f hell— whieh is indeed the essence of the devil as 
love is the essence of God— is not to be found in their 
breasts. And ye therefore, " As newborn babes, desire 
the sincere milk of the word, that ye may grow 
thereby." 

But in fine, all this comes to a bright and glowing 
point, when we consider the example and the language 
of Christ Jesus. I cannot resist the idea that our Lord 
himself had much of the child in His appearance and 
manner. He was, verily, the holy child, Jesus. He 
had certainly much of it in His utterances. His 
language in the Sermon on the Mount resembles that 
of one who was at once a God and a child— so infinite 
is the simplicity, and so immense the depth. And 
why was Christ born a child? Why did He not appear 
like the first Adam, a full-grown man at once ? Might 
it not be to show that such was His interest in children 
that He became an infant in their stead— consecrating 
thus the cradle, and filling the nursery with a divine 
radiance? You remember, too, how He took a little 
child and set him in the midst of His disciples, and 
said, "Except ye be converted, and become as this 
little child, ye cannot inherit the kingdom of God." 
And you remember the still more beautiful and signifi- 
cant words—" Suffer the little children to come unto 
me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of 
heaven." That scene— was it ever surpassed in pathos 
and in spiritual meaning? The disciples tried to pre- 
vent them coining. T don't think they did so on 



82 



WORDS OF COMFOST, 



extreme principles, and because they thought them 
young vipers and the spawn of Satan, that might 
contaminate Christ by their neighbourhood. They 
merely thought them beneath the notice of one so 
great as their Master; too small — too insignificant. 
Christ judged otherwise. The faces and bearing of 
these little children reminded Him of the far land 
from which He had descended — of angels — heaven — 
His Father's house. He thought himself back at His 
native region. And He said, " of such is the kingdom 
of heaven." Heaven is composed of characters similar 
to these; and these, if not checked and retarded by 
the evil influences of the world, are on their way 
to heaven, and were these dying now, they would 
go there. Oh ! what heart, young or old, has not 
throbbed at hearing, said or sung, the fine w^ords — 

"I think when I read the sweet story of old, 
When J esus was here among men, 
How He called little children as lambs to His fold. 
Oh ! I wish I had been with Him then : 

I wish that His hands had been placed on my head, — 
That His arms had been thrown around me — 

And that I had seen His kind looks when He said, 
'Let the little ones come unto Me ! ' 

In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare 

For those that are washed and forgiven, 
How many dear children are gathering there ? 

For of such is the kingdom of heaven." 

I remark, in conclusion, it is delightful to find how 
milder these humane and truer views in reference to 



INFANT SALVATION. 



theology and cognate matters are gradually gaining 
ground. Wave by wave, year by year— in spite of 
rancorous opposition, and in spite of occasional reac- 
tion, presses on the mighty stream of tendency. e 
find this in reference to the doctrine of the Atonement. 
In my boyhood, ministers were so strict in their 
notions that, when quoting in prayer the glorious 
words, " God so loved the world," they often carefully 
inserted the word "elect" before "world," thereby 
turning the divinest utterance in Scripture into non- 
sensical drivel. Now, we are permitted to speak of 
the universal reference of the Atonement, and ^ of 
the Atonement as a discovery of love to mankind 
sinners as such. And so with this doctrine of infant 
salvation. Preached some years ago only here and 
there, and with fear and trembling, it is now openly 
proclaimed in many pulpits, implied in many more, and 
seldom contradicted in any. But on this I need net 
dwell, as Dr. Anderson, in the introductory part of 
this volume, has traced the history of opinions on this 
subject with his usual mastery, as well as strongly 
stated what has long been his own. 

We close this short essay by expressing our deep 
gratitude to the compiler of this volume for its inter- 
esting contents— and our warm wish and prayer that 
the comfort therein contained which has already minis- 
tered to many sorrowing hearts, weeping Rachels, and 
bereaved Naomis, may be multiplied to hundreds and 
thousands more. 

Dundee, November 28, 1866. 



84 



WORDS OF COMFOKT. 



REV. DR. DAVID RUSSELL, DUNDEE.* 

The death of an infant is far from being an uncommon 
occurrence. A great proportion of the human race die 
in childhood. There are but few who are parents long 
without suffering the pangs of parental grief, inflicted 
by the distress and death of one or more of their chil- 
dren. Nor ought this to be considered as a small afflic- 
tion. He who knows our frame has borrowed parental 
sensations to show His tender compassion towards His 
people. " Like as a father pitieth his children, so the 
Lord pitieth them that fear him." " Can a woman," 
says He, " forget her sucking child, that she should 
not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, 
they may forget, yet will I not forget thee." When 
Jehovah describes the bitterest grief, he compares it 
to the grief felt for an only son, and for a first-born. 
" They shall mourn as one that mourneth for an only 
son, and shall be in bitterness, as one that is in bit- 
terness for a first-born." Zech. xii. 10. Who but a 
bereaved parent can fully enter into this ? The feeling 
must be experienced in order to be fully understood. 
A suffering and a dying infant is to a parent a sight 
inexpressibly interesting. And when animation is 
gone, and all that remains is silent and still, countless 

* Dr. Russell, like not a few who have written on the death of 
children, could do so from painful experience, having been called to 
part with several at a tender age. This laborious, useful, and highly 
esteemed servant of Christ, died at Dundee, on the 23rd of September, 
1848, in his 69th year. 



INFANT SALVATION. 



85 



recollections crowd around the heart, and from the lips 
there escapes the doleful expression — all is over now. 

Now, what becomes of so large a proportion of im- 
mortal souls ? is surely a very natural and interesting 
question. It becomes us, indeed, to rest satisfied, that 
whatsover is done by God is unquestionably right; yet 
as the revelation of heaven meets the natural feelings 
of the human heart, and has accordingly given us 
information on many subjects, not more interesting to 
those feelings than this, it cannot be wrong to inquire 
what has been revealed respecting it. Many, while they 
had not been visited with the loss of children, have 
satisfied themselves with a favourable hope in general, 
without being able to say why ; or they have coldly 
said to the afflicted that the subject should be let 
alone ; but when they have been visited with this loss 
themselves, they have felt indescribable pain on this 
very point, and have anxiously sought information 
from the word of God. 

The most pressing inquiry by a Christian parent in 
such circumstances must be, "Is it well with the child I " 
The mind instinctively says, "Whither art thou fled? 
To what world hast thou gone f' The heart is deeply 
interested, and its very love makes it suspicious. Can 
a parent who knows the value of his own soul, and has 
tasted the sweetness of Christian hope and of Christian 
joy, be for a moment indifferent to the everlasting wel- 
fare of that being whom he was the means of bringing 
into existence ? and will he not then put the ques- 
tion, "What is written in the law. how readest thcrul" 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Conjecture will not satisfy him — probability will not 
sooth or gladden his heart. He will be anxious to 
see "whether there is scriptural ground for confidence 
respecting the final condition of his offspring on leav- 
ing this world 

All we wish to prove is, that from the whole of the 
consequences of the sin of Adam, extending as they 
did beyond death to a future state of the spirit, what- 
soever their precise nature might have been, all dying 
in infancy shall be saved through Christ. 

Dr. Russell, in an argument on the resurrection of 
the body and the advent of Christ, thus writes : — 

If infants are raised from the dead through the media- 
tion of Christ, and if, as we have seen, they cannot be 
raised to misery, they are, of course, delivered from the 
penal sentence pronounced on them on the ground of 
Adam's transgression; and if so, they are also delivered 
from that spiritual death into which they fell through 
the loss of those holy principles which were enjoyed by 
him as their head and representative : for, were it other- 
vise, the blessing of the resurrection would be rendered 
worse than nugatory. As they have not been account- 
able agentSj their deliverance from the one result of the 
sin of Adam, must be connected with deliverance from 
the other, and this again with eternal life in the heavenly 
paradise. It was in consequence of the sin of Adam 
that special holy influence was withdrawn : and it is in 
consequence of the perfect righteousness of Jesus as the 
second Adam, that this hallowed gift is restored. And 
if it was as the descendants of Adam, our public head, 



INFANT SALTATION. 



87 



that we were involved in this loss, so it is as connected 
with Christ as our Head that we came to partake of 
the sacred influence of His Spirit. If, then, this gift be 
bestowed on deceased infants, it must be given them as 
members of His spiritual body, and, of course, must be 
given to make them meet for the special privileges and 
blessings of His kingdom. The resurrection of infants, 
then, including, of course, the recall of their spirits 
from the separate state, is connected with their previous 
deliverance, at least at the time of their death, from 
the power of original sin, and, consequently, with then- 
final enjoyment of the celestial inheritance 

The spirit of the gospel of peace is in unison with the 
doctrines of the universal salvation of departed infants. 
It is called glad tidings of great joy to all people. 

The expression, « Of such is the kingdom of God," 
means, then, that "of such it is in a great measure 
made up," because they will form a very great propor- 
tion of the redeemed family of heaven. The Saviour 
appears to have had the universal salvation of all of 
them who die in infancy in his view 

The Almighty can, doubtless, instantaneously raise 
from infantile weakness and ignorance, to the perfection 
of heavenly light and holy purity. This will afford a 
display of the divine power, which will be deeply im- 
pressive. Christians who have long known the truth 
upon earth, though through a glass darkly, understand 
something of the celestial glory, before they enter on 
it ; but what must be the feelings of infants on being 
suddenly translated to the full radiance of the heavenly 



83 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



inheritance, and what the feelings of others on witness- 
ing tins striking display of Almighty power % 

What prevents the full renovation of Christians on 
earth, hut the weakness and unsettledness of their faith 
in the gospel ; and will not the full blaze of its lustre ai 
once assimilate the whole soul to itself I " The germ of 
life and of glory," which was here implanted in the 
infant mind, will burst forth instantaneously into a full 
and vigorous life, and the heart will be impressed with 
the beauty and grandeur of the character of God, and 
capacitated for the services and the bliss of the celestial 
sanctuary. 

When we remember how God taught the children of 
Jerusalem to offer up their artless hosannas in the 
temple, how their praises were accepted of the Saviour, 
and how they seemed to have relieved and gladdened 
the mind of the Man of Sorrows, as He thought of the 
obstinate unbelief and impending fate of that city over 
which He mournfully w ept, we cannot but recommend 
them to God, in the confidence that His power and 
His goodness are always the same. Knowing, as we do, 
that our Lord was much attached to children when He 
was on earth, and seeing such immense numbers of them 
cut off by death, are we not warranted to say that He 
is now by His providence repeating from heaven what 
He said when in our world, " Suffer little children to 
come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of God'l" . . 

When we reflect on the salvation of infants, and 
think on the immense multitudes who die in a state of 
infancy, we cannot but dwell on the delightful promises 



INFANT SALVATION. 



89 



that the children of God shall be in number as the sand 
on the sea-shore, as the drops of the morning dew— in 
a word, that they shall be innumerable. ISTot that the 
salvation of such is the only thing illustrative of such 
promises; far, very far, from it, — but that it is one 
thing which throws light on them, and that it ought 
not to be overlooked. 

Dr. Russell, in the closing chapter of his able work, 
published at a time when the subject was not so 
popular as it is at the present day, observes: — The 
preceding reflections appear decidedly to show, that 
the question respecting the salvation of infants ought 
not to be shunned as an intrusion into "those secret 
things which belong only to God." It seems to be an 
evident conclusion, from every view which the Scrip- 
tures exhibit of the will of the Almighty, that all of 
them dying in infancy are saved.* 



REV. DR. RALPH WAKDLAW, GLASGOW, t 
The following is an extract from one of Dr. Ward- 
law's manuscript lectures on the Life of David. It is 

♦Infant Salvation; or, An Attempt to prove that all who Die 
in Infancy are Saved. By David Eussell, D.D., Dundee. Third 
edition. 1844. Glasgow: James Maclehose. 

f We are indebted to the Eev. John S. Wardlaw, M.A., President 
of the Mission College, Highgate, London, for the following unpub- 
lished extracts from the writings of his revered father. T his eminent 
and honoured divine was born at Dalkeith, on the 22nd of December, 
1779, and died at Glasgow, where he had laboured with singular zeal 
and success for more than fifty years, on the 17th December, 1853. 

G 



90 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



founded on verses 22, 23 of the twelfth chapter of 2nd 
Samuel — " While the child was yet alive, I fasted and 
wept : for I said, "Who can tell whether God will be 
gracious to me, that the child may live 1 But now he 
is dead, wherefore should I fast 1 can I bring him bach 
again ? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to 
me." 

Let not this be interpreted as the language of insen- 
sibility. The general character of David, and his pre- 
vious behaviour on the same occasion, ought to save 
him from every imputation of this kind. ISo. His 
heart was full of paternal and conjugal tenderness. 
Fain would he have brought back his babe to his own 
fond embrace, and to the breast of its disconsolate 
mother. But the thought was vain. All was now 
over. The last sigh with which the infant spirit 
escaped, to wing its way to the world of light, had 
settled the case with regard to the child. David had 
found his consolation in God, and he had the richest 
and sweetest of all comforts respecting his infant. 
The language — "/ shall go to him" — is evidently the 
language of comfort, by which he was supported under 
the anguish that would otherwise have been intoler- 
able in the thought of what follows — " but he shall 
not return to me." It does not, then, it cannot refer 
to the grave. The child was not in the grave when 
the words were uttered; nor do I believe there was 
any thought of the grave in the bereaved parent's 
mind. "What consolation could there have been in 
that, that he, too, should lie down a cold, inanimate 



INFANT SALVATION. 



91 



corpse? This was not going to him in any sense that 
could impart the slightest satisfaction to the afflicted 
spirit. The words clearly imply firm conviction of 
his child's existence and happiness. " I shall go to 
him," means, I shall go whither he has now gone. 
And if his afterwards joining him there was an object 
of hope, there is necessarily implied the persuasion of 
his having gone to a place of happiness. How sweetly 
soothing, how inestimably precious, is the same 
thought still to the agonized bosom of parental love ! 
How delightfully tranquilizing, when the first burst 
of nature's agony has a little subsided, the reflection 
that your child has been taken away from the evil 
to come — taken, to spend those years in heaven, 
which he must otherwise have spent amidst sin, and 
temptation, and sorrow, in the valley of tears : that 
he has been spared all the perils, and fatigues, and 
fightings of the wilderness, and has been received at 
the better country, even the heavenly ; that the 
tender and lovely plant which you had begun to 
cherish with so much care has been happily removed 
from all the chilling frosts and withering blasts of 
this inferior clime, and has found its place in the 
garden of God above, there to drink the dews of 
paradise, and to flourish in unfading beauty ! It is 
a settled, undoubting, delightful serenity which the 
soul enjoys in contemplating the departure of little 
child yen. Think of what the kind and gracious Re- 
deemer said of them, when, with a frown on those 
who would have forbidden their being brought to 



92 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Him, and a smile of ineffable benignity on the little 
immortals themselves, He said — "Suffer the little 
children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for 
of such is the kingdom of God," and, taking them up 
in His arms, He blessed them. Think, then, of their 
blessedness, and that will soothe your grief. .... 

In the reign of death over all, we have a mournfully 
convincing proof of the universality of sin and guilt. 
Death, temporal death, is a part of the curse ; and the 
curse, in no part of it, can light upon innocence. All 
who suffer and die, are treated as guilty; and when 
death reigns "even over them that have not sinned 
after the similitude of Adam's transgression," we have 
before us a matter-of-fact proof in the divine adminis- 
tration, that infants are not held guiltless. They are 
inheritors of a depraved nature, they are members of 
a fallen race : and when saved, they are saved on the 
ground of the Redeemer's merits. Yes, those infant 
voices "that have never been opened here," shall 
proclaim, "in the heavenly world* their early and 
everlasting blessings on His name!" 



The following exquisite and soothing lines are from 
an unpublished letter, addressed by Dr. Wardlaw to his 
daughter and her husband, the Rev. J. Reid, M. A. (now 
deceased), of Bellary, India. It bears date December, 
1833; and was written to them after the death of a 
little boy who was taken from them in infancy : — 

With regard to your precious little darling, all is well. 



IXFANT SALVATION". 



93 



He is not lost — not lost even to you. He is only 
gone home before you : and in the everlasting home 
you will by and by find him. . . It is a delightful 
thought, that of having a part of ourselves with God 
before us. And then the confidence is so perfect, so 
entirely free from all misgivings, so sweetly tranquil, 
unruffled by the least breath of doubt, in regard to 
"little children." Did not you hear the compassionate 
Eedeemer saying to you, as He was loosing the band 
of life, "Suffer your little child to come unto meV 
He said this when on earth. He says it from heaven, 
when He thus takes away the " babes and sucklings" 
of His own people's fond affections, that "out of their 
lips" He may "perfect praise" above. 



This I believe, and delight in believing, that to what- 
ever extent the curse may reach them, they are all 
included in the efficacy of the redemption, amongst the 
objects of saving mercy. Their salvation is entirely 
on the ground of Christ's mediation. And I believe 
that even in heathen lands He makes the great Adver- 
sary outwit himself. The amount of infanticides pro- 
duced by ruthless mothers and unnatural superstition, 
has been fearfully great,* But the Eedeemer, without 

* " Before the introduction of Christianity," says the Kev. George 
Turner, in his 'Nineteen Tears in Polynesia,' "probably not less 
than two-thirds of the Samoan race died in infancy and childhood. 
This mortality arose principally from carelessness and mismanage- 
ment in nursing ; evils which still prevail to a great extent. Even 



94 



WORDS OF COMFORT, 



its in tlie least mitigating the atrocious guilt of the 
perpetrators, has thus, by means of idolatry itself, been 
multiplying the number of His subjects and peopling 
heaven. And a very large proportion, I doubt not, of 
the inhabitants of that happy world, shall consist of 

" Babes thither caught from womb and breast/' * 



KEY. mi. ALEX. MACLEOD, BIRKENHEAD. 

"Your little ones, which ye said should be a prey, and your chil- 
dren, which in that day had no knowledge between good and evil, 
they shall go in thither/' — Deut. i. 39. 

You are in circumstances to welcome light from 
whatever quarter on the destiny of children dying at 
the age of yours. 

I have lying before me the analysis of an argument 
from Analogy on this subject, which made a great 

now, perhaps, one-half of them die before they reach their second 
year." 

The late Dr. Strang stated, in his annual report to the magistrates, 
that the total number of deaths registered in Glasgow, during 1860, 
was 12,415, of which 6285, were under jive years of age. In 1858, 
infantile mortality in Glasgow was even greater, being fifty-three 
per cent., or more than one-half 'of the total number of deaths ! The 
writer can state as the result of twenty years' experience, as a 
missionary amongst the poor in London, Leeds, Bradford, Rochdale, 
and Glasgow, that one fruitful cause of this frightful mortality 
amongst helpless children and tender babes, is the intemperate 
habits of fathers and mothers ! 

* Systematic Theology. By Balph Wardlaw, D.D. Edinburgh: 
Adam & Charles Black- 



INFANT SALVATION. 



95 



impression on me at the time I first saw it, and may 
be of use to you at present. The argument is based 
upon the admission of children into the promised land. 

I need not remind you that there is an analogy 
between the land which was once the land of promise 
to the Jews, and our heavenly home. From that 
land, for their sins, the fathers were excluded — Caleb 
and Joshua alone excepted. But of the children it is 
sa id_" They shall go in thither." If this was so in 
the case of the earthly Canaan; if the children of 
parents, who themselves were excluded, were favoured 
in this way; if they were the subjects of mercy, while 
their fathers were the objects of punitive justice, how 
much more may we expect it to take place in respect 
to the heavenly Canaan. The point here is, that the 
exclusion of children does not follow the exclusion of 
parents. If it did, all would have been excluded 
except the children of Caleb and Joshua. 

The reason assigned by God for this procedure, is 
one which will be applicable at the clay of judgment, 
"Your children, which in that day had no knowledge 
between good and evil, they shall go in." It is true they 
were living when their fathers rebelled against God. 
But they were not partakers in the rebellion, In the 
day of provocation they were gambolling about the 
green fields in innocent ignorance of what was taking 
place ; they were not yet capable of distinguishing 
between good and evil, and, therefore, they were not 
excluded. But since we are speaking of the dealings 
of the unchangeable God, we may safely conclude that 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



He will acknowledge the force of the same reasons in 
the final judgment. The infants who die, carry with 
them towards the judgment throne no knowledge of 
good or evil — no experience of the bitterness of offend- 
ing God. And they will not be involved in the 
condemnation of the wicked. 

If you next consider the purposes for which children 
were admitted into Canaan, you will see that similar 
purposes require fulfilment in their admission into 
heaven. One of these purposes is referred to in the 
verse quoted at the top : " Your little ones, which ye 
said should he a prey." If you read carefully the four- 
teenth chapter of Numbers, verses 1-3, you will under- 
stand the force of the rebuke. Sin had blotted out their 
faith in God. " Their children were sure to perish ! " 
They themselves, too, would perish. So they thought. 
And they were indeed to perish. But the helpless ones, 
the innocent, the unpartaking, were to go free. Now 
the admission of the children into Canaan, after the 
expression of unbelief on the part of the parents, was a 
vindication of God's ways, an answer to the unbelief of 
the parents, and a perpetual token that God deals with 
infants on the ground of saving mercv. It is glorious 
to think that God is preparing a reply to the doubts 
and disbeliefs of all who are far from Him, by a similar 
exercise of grace. Sceptics, infidels, heathens, expect 
nothing for their children but death, temporal and 
eternal. How will they be amazed when they discover, 
in another state, that God has been better than their 
thoughts; and although they (because of their sins) 



INFANT SALVATION. 



97 



are excluded, their children have been admitted into 
His presence.— Still further, God had this purpose in 
bringing the children into Canaan, that they should 
advance His standard into new territory, build up His 
kingdom, and be the organ of His praise. Has He not 
the same purpose in respect of heaven? He chooses 
not to be alone throughout eternity. And (blessed 
prospect!) from the mouth of babes and sucklings 
He ordains the strength of His eternal hallelujahs. 
He who could raise up children to Abraham from the 
stones, will not want the power to fill heaven with 
their loving and delightful songs. 



THE GREYSON CORRESPONDENCE. 

In one of Greyson's Letters, edited by the well known 
Professor Rogers, author of " The Eclipse of Faith," 
we find the following : — 

I never could understand the extreme sorrow which 
mothers in general evince at the death of very young 
infants; "Rachel weeping for her children, and refus- 
ing to be comforted." The absolute uncertainty of a 
child's lot, if spared, and the certainty (as I take it) 
that all dying in their cradles are nurslings of heaven; 
not only snatched from much suffering and temptation, 
but made happy in Him who has "redeemed them" to 
Himself, who on earth so expressly challenged them for 
His own, and who, I doubt not, will welcome them to 
Paradise, is sufficient to reconcile my mind to their 



98 



WOBDS OF COMFORT. 



death. Why should we grudge them their early rest, or 
wish to postpone it ; nay, as far as we can see, endanger 
it, by keeping them here 1 When our Saviour was on 
earth, mothers pressed with their infants to let them 
be encircled in those loving arms, and have His hand 
rest upon their little heads one moment. Why should 
they repine that He takes them from their unsafe 
guardianship, and folds them in the "everlasting arms' 5 
for ever ? that they are gone where they are to know 
only good without evil, and joy, but never sorrow I 

But it is hard to get any mother to subscribe to this 
sound doctrine ; they wont believe that a little one of 
theirs has aught but a bright life before him ; and I 
dare say Madam Eve never for a moment dreamt that 
little Master Cain could come to any ill. 

I have often thought that if (as I think the New 
Testament and reason equally teach us, maugre the 
opinion of some uncharitable fathers who thought the 
contrary) all who die infants, are young denizens of 
heaven, we may look with somewhat mitigated horror 
even on one of the worst practices of the heathen, — 
though, as usual, the undesigned consequences do not 
make their actions the less atrocious. Infanticide, we 
may well hope, has peopled heaven with myriads upon 
myriads of happy immortals, who, if they had grown 
up, would have worn scalps at their girdles, and been 
devout worshippers of the great " Tonguataboo," or 
some such divine monster. The Arch-enemy has in this 
case outwitted himself ; he has been rendering heaven 
more populous, much against his will • hounding into 



INFANT SALVATION. 99 

the everlasting fold the young lambs of the flock, who 
would otherwise have lost themselves on the dark 
" mountains." " The tender mercies of the wicked are 
cruel;" it is well that sometimes his cruelties should 
undesignedly turn out merciful.' 51 * 



REV. DR. JOHN CUMMING, LONDON. 
If it be a fact, as the most accurate statistics prove, 
that at least a third, or not improbably a half, of the 
human race die in the years of infancy, it must be a 
question of some interest to all, and of the deepest 
anxiety to many— what conclusions we may scripturally 
cherish respecting their eternal state. ... As our 
infants die, we feel our anxieties about their hereafter 
multiply. Tender hearts hope the best • and the aching 
void created in maternal bosoms is eased by the expec- 
tation—of which affection rather than evidence is the 
source _that one day the bud that was nipped on earth 
shall be seen in heaven in all the bloom of immortality 
and glory. All we would attempt in this little work, 
is to show that these hopes of the heart are sustained 
by the words of inspiration beyond all cavil or dispute. 
We assert, therefore, there are solid grounds for bright 
hopes of the future destiny of infants: we are not left, 
we think, to conjecture; the grave that shrouds them 
from our sight does not displace them from our surest 
anticipation! Death severs the parent and the infant 

Loudon: Longman, Green. & Co. 



100 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



only for a season. We are sure that this is not only 
the fond wish of a bereaved spirit, but the clear 
assertion of the Spirit of God. 

It is worthy of remark, that infants are referred to 
in Scripture as peculiarly the proteges of the love of 
Jesus. The blessed gospel opens an asylum in its 
bosom to infants. It alone is the nursing-mother of 
the young 

Perhaps the most satisfactory proofs that deceased 
infants are universally saved, will be found in the fifth 
chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. It bears 
peculiarly on this subject. It beams hope and joy to 
weepers from every text. It discloses the fall slumber- 
ing under the sunbeams of the recovery, and the wrecks 
of sin presenting foretokens of the triumphs of grace, 
and on the withered stem of humanity, it reveals buds 
of approaching beauty, and blossoms, and fruit. 

In the fourteenth verse we read, " Nevertheless 
death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over them 
that had not sinned after the similitude of Adam's 
transgression, who is the figure of Him that was to 
come." Now who are they that "have not sinned 
after the similitude of Adam's transgression?" that 
is, by personal and actual transgression. Not the 
lieathen, for they do "sin after the similitude of it;" 
not professing Christians, for they also " sin after that 
similitude." There is but one class who have not 
sinned actually, and that is infants. The allusion, 
-therefore, in this text refers us, unquestionably, we 
submit, to infants, and of them it declares that "death 



INFANT SALVATION. 101 

reigned even over them that had not sinned after the 
similitude of Adam's transgression." "We cannot but 
here observe, as we pass, the happy place which 
infants occupy in this text. The first Adam was 
"a figure of Him that was to come," that is, the 
Second Adam, which is Christ. Now infants are 
placed, in this text, between the two Adams, inherit- 
ing a taint from the first, but transferring that taint 
constantly to the second, which is "the Lamb of God 
that taketh away the sin of the world." They are here 
less the victims, and rather the conductors of the curse 
that comes down from the first, and the recipients 
wholly of the righteousness that is transferred from the 
second. They are thus connected with the first by 
natural descent; and connected with the second by 
grace. Lost in the former, they are saved in the 
latter; they die in Adam, and they live in Christ* 



REV. WILLIAM BATHGATE, KILMARNOCK. 

That there are multitudes of little ones departing to 
another world, cannot be denied. From almost every 
family one such visitant has fled. Almost every 
mother's heart knows the bitterness of giving up the 
infant that smiles even in the arms of death. Many a 
parent has repeatedly had his domestic hearth desolated 
just when, he began to enjoy, as only a parent can enjoy, 

* Infant Salvation; or, all Saved that Die in Infancy. By the 
Kev. John Cumming, D.D. London : Arthur Hall & Co. 



102 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the prattlings of his beloved child. Here and there 
a mother sorrows, because a cluster of little ones was 
snatched from her knee in one short week. Is the 
heart of the stricken parent to be even more deeply 
wounded by the suspicion that her tender offspring has 
departed to a most unfortunate destiny 1 Or, is there 
a voice that bids far away all such suspicions, and a 
hand that plants the firmly-rooted conviction, that 
"it is w^ell" with the vanished little one? Oh, what 
interest is felt in this problem by the parent whose 
heart bleeds and whose spirit sinks on entering the 
desolated nursery, quiet with a terrible stillness! It 
were a rich compensation for the gieesome laugh, the 
guileless prattle, the witching look, the fond embrace, 
the artless song, the infant promise, the parental 
hope, to know assuredly that the tender spirit is in 
the bosom of God, and in the lap of glory — lisping an 
angel's song, and sporting with a glorious gladness 
beneath the face of Jesus Christ. Should such a futu- 
rity be the home of departed infants, it is unfortunate, 
nay, criminal, that bereaved parents do not invariably 
console themselves with all the sweet consolations of 
faith in the well-being of their vanished offspring. 
Such an assurance, if well-founded, would give beams 
to the dull eye, and colour to the blanched cheek, and 
buoyancy to the sinking heart. The Christian mourner 
would have another magnet in heaven. The Christless 
mourner mis:ht find another incentive to flee to Christ, 
that the home of the departed might ultimately be the 
home of the bereaved. . . . ■ . 



INFANT SALVATION. 



103 



Whenever the sacred writings either explicitly or 
impliedly refer to the future state of children, that state 
is represented as a happy one. When the bereaved 
Psalmist David learned that his little one over whom 
he had groaned and wept and prayed, was dead, he 
said, " I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me." 
The father felt that it would be vain to wish the departed 
" back again." Once away, away for ever, bleed the 
parent's heart ever so copiously. If ever ancient saint, 
notwithstanding his backslidings, realised the spirit of 
the godly pilgrim, that saint was David. The King of 
Israel had the eye of his soul fixed on the glancing 
spires of the Eternal City. He believed that his child 
had been taken there by " the angel of the Covenant." 
The desolateness of a bereaved spirit was broken in 
upon by the doubly precious conviction, that the 
departed was indeed "well," and that the mourner 
should soon join the exalted infant. Experience alone 
can tell the dreariness of the heart bereft of an infant- 
child. The brightest sun is clouded. The loveliest 
landscape is a graveyard. The blue heavens and the 
green earth are clad in black. Experience alone can 
tell the gladness of this bereaved heart when watered 
by the springs which rose in the breast of David. It 
is well with the child — I shall go to him. Those 
springs of spiritual comfort convert the blasted spot 
of heath into a plot of snowdrops and lilies. 

There is one remarkable passage in the history of 
the ministry of Jesus which casts rays of hope on the 
future condition of infants. " And they brought young 



104 



WORDS OF C03IF0RT. 



children to him: and his disciples rebuked those that 
brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much 
displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children 
to come unto me, and forbid them not : for of such is 
the kingdom of God. Verily, I say unto you, whosoever 
shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, 
he shall not enter therein. And he took them up in 
his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them.'' 
Whether "the kingdom of God" here spoken of be 
understood of the family of God on earth or in heaven, 
the fact that little "children," as such, are members of 
that family and heirs of that kingdom, is abundantly 
evident. Little children are in that kingdom till, by 
actual transgression, they put themselves out of it. 
Should they die before they commit actual transgres- 
sion, being lambs of Christ's flock below, they shall be 
translated to the pastures of the Good Shepered in the 
heavenly Canaan. The fact that they belong to the 
kingdom of heaven, and that this kingdom belongs to 
them, is revealed. . . 

The principles on which we have based the salvation 
of infants, sweep round the uncircumscribed world, 
and embrace every little child, whether he be the 
offspring of a monarch or a peasant, a Christian or a 
heathen — whether he depart to eternity amid the 
sighings and sobbings and plaintive prayers of a 
Christian family, or amid the sacrificial cruelties and 
yellings of a group of barbarians.* 

*iEteraitas; or, Glimpses of the Future Destinies of Man. By 
Hev. William Bathgate. Kilmarnock 



INFANT SALTATION. 



KEY. DR. JOHN MOBISON, LONDON. 

Seven years after Dr. Morison had buried one of his 
children, he thus writes to Ms brother when called to 
pass through a similar trial : — I can truly say I rejoice 
my Henry is in heaven. The pang occasioned by the 
death of a lovely infant is one which only a parent 
with a feeling heart can understand. I would not 
desire to lose such a precious treasure without a 
struo-orle. I have no admiration of the social affections 
of some stoical parents. They are inferior in sensi- 
bility to most of the brute tribes, and they are 
anything but an ornament to the Gospel, which 
breathes tenderness and kindly emotions in all its 
communications. It is a merciful provision of our 
heavenly Father, that the gushing tears which flow 
from a full heart prevent it from actually bursting, 
and afford relief from inward burning emotions that 
would consume the soul. But, oh, how different the 
reflections which rise up in the mind on the death of 
an irresponsible babe, as contrasted with those which 
Hash upon our spirits as we watch the departing life of 
a child who has passed into the region of accountable- 
ness ! In the one case we have no misgivings, no 
apprehensions about the future ; we see the pathway 
to immortality, clear and bright, in the sunbeams of 
Him who is the light of the world : but in the other, 
the problem of salvation is difficult of solution. "We 
ponder, we reflect, we agitate our spirits, and our 
paternal feelings in the loss sustained are almost 



106 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



merged in the one grand inquiry, "Is my child in 
heaven or hell? is he lost or saved?" I congratulate 
you, dear brother, that your feelings, keen and tender as 
they are, are but the result of a wound inflicted in the 
parental bosom ; they do not work themselves into the 
texture of your religious fears; you have no anxiety 
for the eternal safety of your babe; it is a spirit in 
glory, risen up to the full maturity of its faculties ; and 
its separate spirit shall always behold the face of your 
Father in heaven. Give our united love to your dear 
wife, for whom we have great sympathy in her trying 
bereavement. There is a depth in a mother's heart 
which makes it capable of holding such sorrow. But 
may she find a more than equal depth in tlie heart of 
Christ, in whose everlasting arms her babe is enfolded !* 



REV. DR JOHN BROWN, EDINBURGH, f 

Dr. John Brown, in the section, "Consolations for 
those who have Lost Little Children," of his deeply 

* Memoirs of the Rev. John Morison, D.D., LL.D. By the Rev. 
John Kennedy, M.A., Stepney, London. 

f Dr. Brown, grandson of the far-famed Rev. John Brown, of 
Haddington, was a distinguished scholar and author, and for many 
years Professor of Theology to the United Presbyterian Church. 
He was born in July, 1784:, and died at Edinburgh, in October, 
1858, aged 74 years. "His last words," says Dr. Cairns, his learned 
biographer, " were ' wonderfully well.' From the emphasis laid on 
the word ' wonderfully,' it appeared to be his wish not only to tell 
how he was, but to speak of his whole state as a wonder of the 
Divine mercy." 



INFANT SALVATION. 



107 



interesting, instructive, and soothing little volume, 
observes : — 

On this subject I wish to speak with the modesty 
which becomes us on all subjects on which the state- 
ments of Scripture are not very full and explicit: but 
I have no hesitation in stating it as my fixed judgment, 
with regard to the final state of infants, properly so 
called, that there is nothing to fear ; and with regard to 
little children, in whom the religious and moral faculties 
are very imperfectly developed, to whose minds the 
saving truth has been presented, that there is great 
reason to hope, and in many cases abundant ground 
for even "the full assurance of hope." .... 

I hold that the whole tenor of Scripture leads to 
the conclusion, that all infants who die in infancy are 
included in the election of grace, and are saved through 
the atonement and Spirit of Jesus Christ. . . 

Let us consider that most delightful incident recorded 
by three of the Evangelists. " They brought young- 
children to Jesus that he should touch them, and his 
disciples rebuked those who brought them. But when 
Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto 
them, "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God : and 
he took them up in his arms, put his hands on them, and 
blessed them." I will not dogmatize as to the precise 
meaning of a passage, which admits of more than one 
interpretation, but I will say, in the cautious language 
of John Newton, " I think it at least highly probable 
that in these words our Lord does not only, if at all, 



103 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



here intimate the necessity of our becoming as little 
children in simplicity, as a qualification without which 
as He (expressly declares in other places) we cannot 
enter into His kingdom, but informs us of a fact, that 
the number of infants who are effectually redeemed to 
God by His blood, so greatly exceeds the aggregate of 
adult believers, that, comparatively, His kingdom may 
be said to consist of little children."* 



REV. DR. ADAM THOMSON, COLDSTREAM. 

I must embrace this renewed opportunity of expressing 
my firm conviction, founded, I think, on the testimony 
of the divine record, that all infants, without exception, 
will, when they die, be introduced by the compassion- 
ate and Almighty Redeemer into that place where, 
" out of the mouth of babes and sucklings," He will 
then and to all eternity perfect His own praise, showing 
in them and by them the infinite value and efficacy of 
His own atoning blood. He who shed that blood for 
them on Calvary, and who, while yet in deep humilia- 
tion, said, " Suffer little children to come unto me," 
has now brought them near the exalted throne which 
He occupies and adorns. There they are transformed 
into His likeness, because they now " see Him as He 
is." Their powers will thus be perfected, and their 

* Comfortable Words for Christian Parents Bereaved of Little 
Children. By John Brown, D.D. Edinburgh: W. Oliphant & Co, 



INFANT SALVATION. 



109 



capacity for enjoyment accordingly enlarged. They 
were not permitted to serve, so as to enjoy fellowship 
with God here. But there they shall serve Him day 
and night in His temple. And what a source of con- 
solation is this ! Oh ! can we grieve when we have 
reason to believe that our children are in heaven, freed 
from ever from all evil, and from the possibility of 
suffering or sorrow of any kind ; but on the contrary 
rejoicing, as they shall to eternity rejoice, in the 
presence of God and of the Lamb ! "Who can doubt 
that their songs will be among the sweetest, and even 
the loftiest, to be heard in the celestial temple ? * 



REV. DR. JOSEPH BROWN, GLASGOW. 

I have a full persuasion in my own mind that " it is 
well with the child " that dies in infancy ; and I have 
often felt thankful that I had satisfied myself on that 
head before I was led to secure the possession of a 
burying place for my own infant children; but my 
faith rests less on any particular passage than on the 
genius of the gospel scheme. Just as I find that the 
divinity of our Lord is the key to the interpretation of 
the current representation of Scripture, so I think that 

* This venerable Christian patriot, so well-known and highly 
^spected for his energetic, disinterested, and successful efforts to 
jverthrow the Bible monopoly, was born at Coldstream, on the 9th 
of November, 1779; ordained at Coldstream, March 12, 1806; and 
died there, on the 23rd of February, 1861. 



110 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the salvation of infant children is in best accordance 
with many portions of the holy oracles. 

I had occasion to glance at the subject recently, 
when speaking of Christ's being "glorified in" the 
number of " His saints in that day," and in endeavour- 
ing to establish the position that the redeemed will 
greatly outnumber those that perish. I believe that- 
even in past times the number of the saints may have 
been greater than a contracted charity has supposed — 
than the spirit of bigotry has allowed. I believe that, 
in the long ages of rest and triumph in store for the 
Church, "'the nations of the saved" will soon counter- 
balance the deficiencies of many generations. And 
even in reference to those periods in which sin and 
Satan have most prevailed, I comfort myself with the 
thought that death has been employed by Him who 
has the power of the keys, in securing a great ingather- 
ing into the kingdom of heaven, from those who have 
died in infancy. 

1 remember conversing, many years ago, on this sub- 
ject, with the late Ebenezer Brown of Inverkeithing, 
and of marking the delight he seemed to gather from 
the thought that the multitudes of children who die in 
heathen countries, and in the heathen parts of our own 
country, ay, and even those that are violently taken 
away by the cruel hands of superstition and idolatry, 
are "caught up to God and to His throne," to swell the 
numbers of the ransomed, and to enlarge the honours 
of the Redeemer. If others cannot take the comfort 
of this faith, I am sorry, for their sakes : and, for 



INFANT SALVATION. 11-1 

myself, I am disposed to say, in the language of the 
great Roman orator, in reference to the immortality of 
the soul "If I am wrong in believing this, I please 
myself L my mistake ; nor, while I live, will I ever 
choose that this opinion wherewith I am so much 
delighted, shall be wrested from me." 



REV. DR. ALEX. WALLACE, GLASGOW. 

I HAVE often been struck with the following passage 
in connection with the subject of infant salvation— 
« Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou 
ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou 
mmhtest still the enemy and the avenger." (Ps. vm. 2.) 
The enemy and the avenger referred to here is, I think, 
Satan, who would avenge himself, if he could, by de- 
stroying the whole human race. But his revengeful 
desires have been thwarted, inasmuch as many helpless 
babes have been made the subjects of renewing grace. 
More than this, I suppose the majority of our race die 
in infancy; these, I believe, are all the lambs of the 
« Good Shepherd," and are taken to Himself— "for of 
such is the kingdom of God." In this way the Father 
of mercy "ordains strength, stills the enemy and the 
avenger;" because, in the salvation of infants, the 
number of the saved is greater than the lost. Our 
Saviour quoted this ancient oracle, when the children 
sun. His praises in the temple, and He silenced those 
who were instigated by the "enemy and the avenger 



112 



WORDS OF COMFORT, 



to find fault with the children and their songs. Many 
children now sing the praises of the "Good Shepherd" 
in the temple above, and your dear child is there, too, 
and of her and many more are the ancient words true, 
"Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou 
ordained strength." 



You have seen, perhaps, the engraving of that very 
affecting picture of the young mother gazing in silent 
sorrow on the empty cradle, in which but lately slept 
her lovely babe. There is the empty cradle — there 
the little shoes for little feet, the pattering of which 
will be heard no more. The young mother sits brood- 
ing over these, feeding her grief upon the crowding 
thoughts which everything connected with the blooming 
or the withering of that household flower brings up 
from the depths of love and memory. Every feature, 
every winning grace, every playful fancy of childhood, 
every word that betokened the opening dawn of intelli- 
gence, are all brought back and fondly cherished, and 
in hours of sad and pensive musing, form, as it were, 
the gloaming hour of the soul, but not without the 
radiance of a bright sunset, going clown only to usher 
in a brighter day. Even in the gloaming of her sadness 
that mother believes that through the love, and life, 
and death of the Good Shepherd, "It is well with 

THE CHILD/' 



INFANT SALVATION. 



113 



REV. HENRY BATCHELOR, GLASGOW. 

Father, mother, thy heart is very sad and sore. It 
is thy first bereavement. In the darkness of a dull 
winter's night, the young troubled life fled away. 
The day broke on the first snow. The world was in 
white, mourning for the little innocent in thy silent 
chamber. What affliction has fallen on thee ! Ah ! 
the greatest trials and sorrows are not from the world, 
from business, from personal suffering. All these 
"riefs can be borne with fortitude, while the home is 
without a cloud. But let one little life be threatened, 
and, wherever you go, you move beneath a canopy of 
gloom. Let one merry voice be hushed ; let the little 
eyes that flashed with childhood's fire be sealed in the 
long sleep beneath their waxen lids. In the morning, 
when you leave a house of darkened rooms; in the 
evening, when you confront fallen curtains in every 
window ; aye, and all the day through, with no other 
suggestion than the memory of your own sad heart, 
the quenching of the younger life makes you an older 
man, and this, for you, a different world. 

You need not ask the Prophet's question, "Is it 
well with the child?" The " Good Shepherd" always 
carries the drooping lamb in His bosom, and the last 
breath is the token that it has reached the sacred and 
guarded fold, and that its spirit has found rest. Death 
to a little one is like liberating a bird to seek its 
native clime. Its unsoiled pinion and virgin song are 
for a sunnier realm. The light in which it is lost to 



114 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



thee is the radiance of the better land. "For of such is 
the kingdom of God " But oh! parent, what of thine 
own soul ? Hast thou one so near to thee, one that 
thou thoughtest inseparable from thy life and love, in 
heaven 1 Are the little feet touching the blissful shore 
that thou shalt never tread] Is its ear filled with 
sounds that shall never come to thine ? Is its young 
and tender form lustrous with a glory which shall never 
shine on thee ? Is it now looking on the face which 
thine eye, through all the eternal ages, shall never see ? 

Is thy little one so much to thee, and art thou less to 
God? We are His offspring/' The Great Teacher 
enjoined, ''When ye pray, say, our Father.''' Ye have 
a place in the paternal love of God. Thy burdens 
are His care. An imperilled soul is more to Him 
than all his vast dominions. He has taken to Him- 
self the little life so precious to thee, to draw thee 
after. This is God's most loving act to thee. Many 
a time thou heardedst His voice, and didst not heed it. 
He gave His onlv-be^otten Son to agony and death 
for thee, and it touched thee not ; novr, He has taken 
thine own loved one from thee. It is not the first 
time that a little golden head has attracted hoary 
hairs to heaven. Tiny pattering feet trace for strong 
men the way to God, and lead, by silken chords of 
love, to His blest abode. " Out of the mouths of babes 
and sucklings Thou hast perfected praise.''' 31 ay it be 
thy comfort that every step in life is guiding thee to 
embrace thy little one again, where flowers never 
wither, and immortality beams in every countenance. 



INFANT SALVATION. 



115 



REV. JOHN BRUCE, LIVERPOOL. 

The following is an extract from an excellent essay on 
Infant Salvation, by Rev. J. Bruce, Liverpool, author 
of several works addressed to Christian mourners : — 
The tender affection which the Saviour discovered for 
little children, while a sojourner on earth, can scarcely 
fail to interest the hearts, and encourage the hope, of 
Christian parents. When His disciples would have- 
prevented their introduction to Him, and rebuked those 
who brought them for the purpose of obtaining His 
blessing, He strongly reprehends their conduct. They 
mio-ht have thought it an unseasonable intrusion, 
employed as He was in imparting instruction to those 
who were capable of receiving it; and yet, from the 
sentiments He had recently expressed in regard to chil- 
dren, and the uniform kindness of His manner towards 
them, they should have been certain of their favourable 
reception. We often read of the displeasure of Christ 
with His disciples; but on this occasion it is said "He 
was much displeased." An infant, which the world 
looks upon with indifference, as scarcely worthy of 
regard, is viewed by the Redeemer of the world with 
intense interest, and occupies no small share in the 
affections of His heart. The scene that followed might 
have moved an angel's tears, and must have excited 
emotions of delighted love in the breasts of all who 
witnessed it. He said, " Suffer the little children to 
come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the 
kingdom of God. And he took them up in his arms, 



116 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



put his hands upon them, and blessed them." What 
an union of greatness and condescension ; of power and 
beneficence ! He, who called systems into being, and 
who upholds and governs the worlds which He has 
created, is seen folding a little babe in His arms : and 
that voice which had often spoken in tones of thunder, 
is only heard pronouncing the richest blessings. Yes ! 
He has blessed them, and they shall be blessed. He has 
declared them the subjects of His spiritual reign, and 
the participants of His glory, and who shall reverse the 
judgment which He has jnxmounced? For, whether we 
understand the phrase, " kingdom of God," as referring 
to the Church of Christ on earth, or to His perfected 
family in heaven, it is the pledge of the final consum- 
mation of their happiness in eternity. And when it is 
said "of such is the kingdom of heaven," it is doubtless 
intended to intimate that heaven is principally composed 
of the redeemed spirits of those who die in infancy. 
They will form no small proportion "of the great mul- 
titude, which no man can number, of all nations, and 
kindreds, and people, and tongues."* 

[A friend lent me a copy of Mr. Bruce's Cypress 
Wreath, in July, 1866. I perused the neat little 
volume with much interest. It was published as far 
back as 1830, and the now venerable author has dis- 
played not a little taste and skill in arranging its 
varied contents.] 

* A Cypress Wreath for an Infant's Grave. By the Kev. J olm 
Bruce, Minister of the Necropolis, Liverpool. London : Hamilton 
Adams, & Co. 



INFANT SALVATION. 



117 



REV. DR. EDWARD STEANE, LONDON. 

We arrive at the conclusion, so delightful in itself, and 
so consolatory to parents in the hour of bereavement, 
that their precious children whom, in the sweetness of 
their infantile innocence, the cold hand of death has 
rifled from their bosoms, are translated to the regions 
of the blest. Those delicate flowers, which the rude 
storms of our inclement atmosphere have blighted, 
unfold in eternal fragrancy beneath the pleasant beams 
of the sun's celestial glory. Those bright, but little 
stars, which to us seem prematurely quenched, do but 
sink beneath the horizon till, with new lustre and 
augmented magnitude, they repair their drooping radi- 
ance, and "Flame in the forehead of the morning sky." 
Those gems, more precious than pearls or rubies, of 
which the anguished mother has been despoiled, are set 
in deeper brilliance in that glorious mediatorial diadem 
which encircles the Redeemer's brow. Those infantile 
voices, which had scarce learnt to lisp His name, now 
sing in lofty descants, " Salvation to him that sitteth 
upon the throne, and to the Lamb." Then let the 
stricken hearts of parents, whom death has made child- 
less, no longer indulge an immoderate grief. Your 
beloved and lamented offspring, looking down from their 
heavenly spheres, would chide your sorrow. Among 
the ransomed they have taken their immortal stations. 
There are the wise, the devout, the meek, and the 
lowly; all in every age who loved and believed in 



118 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Christ There venerable and hoary-headed patriarchs 
who lived on earth through centuries of time : and 

There in heaven's most wide embrace, 
Myriads, too, of infant race, 
Piudely snatched from earth that seemed, 
Swell the hosts of the redeemed. 
Though the sword that harvest reap, 
Childless mother, cease to weep : 
"Weep not for thy sinless dead : 
Rachel, be thou comforted. * 



KEV. ALEX. CUTHBERT, A.M., GLASGOW. 

Such is the conclusion to which the concurrent testi- 
mony of Scripture upon the subject conducts us. The 
different parts of the argument on which that conclu- 
sion rests, are sufficient, in my estimation, to remove 
the doctrine contained in it — that all children who 
die in infancy are saved — from among questions of a 
dark and doubtful nature, and to place it among those 
which are illuminated and confirmed by "the true 
sayings of God." And considering the incalculable 
numbers of our race who are swept away from the 
earth ere they have quite passed through that early 
stage of their being, the belief that they are delivered 
from condemnation, and made sons and daughters of 
the Lord Almighty, enables us to contemplate the 
ravages of the destroyer with resignation and hope. 
Their death prevents a fearful amount of suffering and 

* Bereaved Parents Comforted. Ly Edward Steane, D.D. 
London: Nisbet & Co. 



INFANT SALVATION. 



119 



crime. And, though it brings sorrow and mourning 
into almost every home, it is an arrangement replete 
with mercy, and contributes unspeakably more, per- 
haps, than any other to increase the ransomed family 
in heaven to " Millions above all number infinite." 
Infants, without exception, who have fallen by the 
last enemy since his reign began in our world, are 
among the bright immortals in the better land. In 
their felicity and glory the Redeemer is seeing the 
travail of His soul, and He is crowning them with the 
tokens of His love. He is feeding them, and leading 
them to living fountains of waters ; and He has wiped 
away all tears from their eyes.* 



REV. WILLIAM FRASER, ALLOA. 

"I shall go to Mm, but lie shall not return to me."— 2 Sam. xii. 23. 

The following extract, from the manuscript of a ser- 
mon preached by the late Rev. Wm. Fraser, in the 
year 1819, on the occasion of the death of his first- 
born child, is interesting as an indication of the pro- 
gress which liberal sentiments were making nearly 
fifty years ago. We are indebted for the extract to 
the Rev. H. Erskine Fraser, M.A., son of the deceased, 
Langside Road Church, Glasgow: — 

David knew himself to be a saint, and he expected 
at death to be admitted into heaven ; and as he here 

* Infants Asleep in Jesus ; or, Light on Little Graves. By the 
Rev. A. Cuthbert, A.M. Edinburgh : A. Elliot. 



120 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



says, that he would go to his child, this implies his 
belief of the child's being in heaven. "Whether when 
he was engaged in prayer, or after the child's decease, 
he received any special revelation from God to this 
effect, we cannot say. Perhaps he had no foundation for 
his faith regarding this matter, but what all believing 
parents in his circumstances possess. The child of David 
seems to have died in infancy before it had committed 
any actual transgression ; and some are of opinion that 
all infants, whether those of Christians or heathens, 
dying so young, are saved. Though inclined to adopt 
this sentiment, I acknowledge that the proof of it does 
not appear to me to be as complete as to warrant our 
confidently asserting it. There is nothing in Scripture 
hostile to this opinion, and there is much which seems 
to favour it. Tor anything we know, it may be a 
part of the plan of redemption that all children, dying 
before they have committed actual transgressions, 
shall, through Jesus Christ, obtain eternal life ; and, 
at any rate, believing parents have no cause to sorrow 
on occasion of the death of their infants, as if they had 
no hope concerning their glorification. With all be- 
lievers Jehovah has entered into a Covenant, in which 
He has promised to be a God to them and to their seed 
after them ; and the Apostle Peter, referring to this 
promise, says, " The promise is to you and to your 
children." The bereaved mothers in Bethlehem were 
told to refrain their voice from weeping and their eyes 
from tears, because their children who had fallen 
martyrs to the cause of Christ, would "return from 



INFANT SALVATION. 



121 



the land of the enemy" (Jer. xxxi. 16, Matt ii. 18), 
and this promise certainly implies more than merely 
that those children would be re-animated. It must 
imply that they would obtain a glorious resurrection, 
for it is only such a resurrection that is a real blessing, 
and that can be the matter of a promise. The Lord 
Jesus took up infants in His arms when they were 
brought to Him, blessed them, and said, " Suffer little 
children to come unto me, and forbid them not : for of 
such is the kingdom of God" — a declaration which 
implies that, at least, some infants are saved, and the 
grace of God and the merit of Christ, which can save 
some of them, are able to save them all, if this shall 
appear proper to infinite wisdom. Let it be remem- 
bered, however, that all children come into the world 
with original sin, and if they are saved, they obtain 
salvation through the righteousness of Christ, whose 
blood cleanseth from all sin. 

Deists often object to the Christian scheme of re- 
demption, that so few derive any benefit from it ; but 
the number is not so inconsiderable as they would 
allege, if all children dying in infancy are saved, and 
if we take into account the multitudes of saints that 
shall exist during the millennium. 

Our Bible is intended chiefly for adults, and there- 
fore little is said in it concerning the dealings of God 
with infants, either while they are in this world, or 
after their death. Their eternal salvation is left in 
some degree of uncertainty, to stir up parents to the 
greater diligence in securing it by prayer, by taking 

i 



122 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



hold by faith of the covenant for themselves and their 
seed; and at the same time, as much is said as is 
sufficient to encourage them to entertain some hope 
respecting the glorification of their children who die 
while they are young. 



REV. ALEX. B. GROSART, LIVERPOOL. 

I gather up what I have submitted thus far, by 
telling an old Hebrew story. — Rabbi Meir — so it runs 
— sat during the whole of one Sabbath-day in the 
public school, and instructed the people. During his 
absence from home, his two boys, both of them of 
uncommon beauty, died. His wife, their mother, bore 
them to her chamber, laid them upon the marriage- 
bed, and spread a white covering over their bodies. 
Towards evening, Rabbi Meir came home. "Where 
are my beloved sons," he asked, " that I may give them 
my blessing V 9 "They are gone to the school," was 
the answer. " I repeatedly looked round the school," 
he replied, "and I did not see them there." She 
reached him a goblet ; he praised the Lord at the going 
out of the Sabbath, drank, and again asked, " Where 
are my boys, that they may drink of the cup of bless- 
ing V\ " They will not be far off," she said, and placed 
food before him, that he might eat. He was in a 
gladsome and genial mood; and when he had said 
grace after the meal, she thus addressed him : " Rabbi, 
with thy permission I would fain propose to thee one 



INFANT SALVATION. 



123 



question." "Ask it then, my love!" he replied. "A 
few days ago, a person entrusted some jewels to my 
custody, and now he demands them again : should I 
give them back again?" "This is a question," said 
Rabbi Meir, " which my wife should not have thought 
it necessary to ask. What ! wouldst thou hesitate or 
be reluctant to restore to every one his own V " No," 
she replied, " but yet I thought it best not to restore 
them without acquainting thee therewith." She then 
led him to their chamber, and, stepping to the bed, 
took the white covering from their bodies. "Ah! 
my boys, my boys!" thus loudly lamented the father; 
"my boys! the light of mine eyes!" The mother 
turned away and wept. At length she took her hus- 
band by the hand, and said, "Rabbi, didst thou not 
teach me that we must not be reluctant to restore that 
which was entrusted to our keeping 1 See, the Lord 
gave, the Lord hath taken away, and blessed be the 
name of the Lord!" "Blessed be the name of the 
Lord!" answered Rabbi Meir. 

It is well for bereaved parents to say, with Rabbi 
Meir, under their loss, " Blessed be the name of the 
Lord." It is well to acquiesce in all that it pleases 
Him to send and to withdraw. But my little book, I 
hope, goes a little way to show that there may be, and 
ought to be, more than acquiescence and resignation — 
that not only ought believers to feel assured that, in 
taking away their "little ones," God exercises His 
own unchallengeable right ; but that He exercises that 
right in loving regard to what is best and kindest for 



124 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the removed, and for those left behind. For I have, 
indeed, written poorly and unpersuasively, if I have 
failed to satisfy that the death of children, of ail 
children, of all the lambs, introduces them to a higher, 
nobler, brighter, purer, more blessed state, even into 
the inheritance of the Redeemed. * 



REV. PHILIP BENNETT POWER, M A. 

kt So fair wert thou, small beam,'* I cried aloud, 
t; That could I only tell where thou hast gone ; 
I'd seek thee through the mist and gloom and cloud, 
For never beam on earth so brightly shone." 

To a true believer the great delights of another world 
are pre-eminently spiritual — there, will he be free from 
sin — there, will he be in His presence where there is 
fulness of joy, and at His right hand, where there are 
pleasures for evermore. This will be the great delight ; 
but the greater does not destroy the less; it is not 
too much to expect that the lights which twinkled so 
exquisitely on earth shall not be absorbed or extin- 
guished there. Shall we say, All is gone and gone for 
ever? Nay! this cannot be: at any rate, when those 
that have been taken, are little ones who have departed 
in the Lord. With these, the heart will refuse to part; 
they live, only elsewhere than in this world of ours; 
and where they are, there would we be also. The 

* The Lambs All Safe ; or, The Salvation of Children. By the 
Kev. Alexander Balioch Grosart, Liverpool. Edinburgh: W. 
Oliphant & Co. 



IXFAXT SALVATION. 



125 



heart's hopes may whisper with reference to the other 
world, and sanctified of the Spirit, help us to set our 
affections there. Many a parent has first been led to 
vseek the higher world, because thither her little one 
had gone. A heaven of holiness is not lowered in its 
standard, because it is also a heaven of sentiment. 
Little ones, who have died in Christ, may be used of 
the Spirit to exercise an influence more mysterious 
than the loadstone, drawing us by a power, silent and 
invisible, but true. Oh glad hope ! to be reunited to 
our child — to be in the same place with it again. O 
blessed land, bright with the presence of our Saviour, 
bright with the presence of our child, — He, the great 
light to rule the heart's eternal day — it, a lesser light, 
bright in the glory which streams magnificently from 
Him.* 



REV. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD. 

This "man of God," one of Scotland's noblest witness- 
bearers for the truth, in a letter to Lady Kenmure, 
dated Anworth, Jan. 15, 1629, thus writes: — 

You have lost a child; nay, she is not lost to you 
who is found to Christ; she is not sent away, but only 
sent before, like unto a star, which, going out of our 
sight, doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another 
hemisphere: you see her not, yet she doth shine in 
another country. If her glass was but a short hour, 
what she wanteth of time, that she hath gotten of 

* The Lost Sunbeam. By the Eev. Philip Bennett Power, M.A., 
Incumbent of Christ Church, Worthing. London: J. F. Shaw & Co. 



12G 



WOUDS OF COMFORT. 



eternity; and you have to rejoice that you have now 
some treasure laid up in heaven. 

In another letter, dated St. Andrews, Oct. 15, 1640, 
addressed to Agnes Maekmath, on the death of a 
child, Mr, Rutherford says : — 

If our Lord hath taken away your child, your lease of 
him is expired; and seeing Christ would want him no 
longer, it is your part to hold your peace, and worship 
and adore the sovereignty and liberty that the Potter 
hath over the clay and pieces of clay-nothings, that He 
gave life unto. And what is man, to call and summon 
the Almighty to his lower court down here] For He 
giveth account of none of His doings. And if you will 
take a loan of a child, and give him back again to our 
Lord, smiling as His borrowed goods be returned to 
Him, believe he is not gone away, but sent before ; and 
that the change of the country should make you think, 
he is not lost to you who is found to Christ; and that 
he is now before you, and that the dead in Christ shall 
be raised again. A going-clown star is not annihilated, 
but shall appear again. If he hath cast his bloom and 
flower, the bloom is fallen in heaven in Christ's lap; 
and as he was lent a while to time, so is he given now 
to eternity, which will take yourself; and the difference 
of your shipping and his to heaven and Christ's shore, 
the land of life, is only in some few years, which 
weareth every day shorter, and some short and soon- 
reckoned summers will give you a meeting with him 
But what, with him? Kay, with better company:— 
with the Chief and Leader of the heavenly troops, that 
are riding on white horses, that are triumphing in glory. 



INFANT SALVATION. 



127 



REV. JAMES HEBVEY, A.M. 

Yonder white stone, emblem of the innocence it covers, 
informs the beholder of one who breathed out its 
tender soul almost in the instant of receiving it. 
There the peaceful infant, without so much as knowing 
what labour and vexation mean, "lies still and is quiet; 
it sleeps and is at rest." Staying only to wash away 
its native impurity in the laver of regeneration, it bade 
a speedy adieu to time and terrestrial things. What 
did the little hasty sojourner find so forbidding and 
disgustful in our upper world, to occasion its precipi- 
tant exit? 'Tis written, indeed, of its suffering 
Saviour, that when He had tasted the vinegar mingled 
with gall, He would not drink. And did our new- 
come stranger begin to sip the cup of life, but, 
perceiving the bitterness, turn away its head and 
refuse the draught? Was this the cause why the 
wary babe only opened its eyes, just looked on the 
light, and then withdrew into the more inviting- 
regions of undisturbed repose ? Happy voyager ! no 
sooner launched than arrived at the haven ! 

" Happy the babe, who, privileg'd by fate 
To shorter labour, and a lighter weight, 
Eeceiv'd but yesterday the gift of breath , 
Order'd to-morrow to return to death."' 



Consider this, ye mourning parents, and dry up 
your tears. Why should you lament that your little 
ones are crowned with victory before the sword is 



128 



WORDS OF COMFOKT. 



drawn, or the conflict begun . Perhaps the Supreme 
Disposer of events foresaw some inevitable snare of 
temptation forming, or some dreadful storm of adversity 
impending. And why should you be so dissatisfied 
with that kind precaution, which housed your pleasant 
plant, and removed into shelter a tender flower, before 
the thunders roared, before the lightnings flew, before 
the tempest poured its rage ? O remember ! they are 
not lost, but "taken away from the evil to come/' * 



REV. DR. JOHN MACFARLANE, LONDON. 

Different interpretations have been put upon the 
clause, "for of such is the kingdom of heaven." It 
can, we humbly think, admit of but one consistent 
explanation. Placed where it is, and uttered in the 
circumstances, it just means, that of infants the king- 
dom of heaven is chiefly composed. What a sublime 
thought ! The majority of the inhabitants of heaven 

* The eloquent author of " Meditations and Contemplations " was 
born near Northampton in 1713. and died in 1758. aged forty-five years. 
At his medical attendant's final visit, Mi Hervey quoted, vrith great 
serenity in his countenance, the cheering words of Simeon — " Lord, 
now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word ; 
for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." " Here, doctor, is my 
cordial; what are all the cordials given to support the dying, in 
comparison of that which arises from the promises of salvation by 
Christ? This supports me!''' Shortly after, he said. "The great 
conflict is over and the ransomed spirit winged its way to where 
"the wise shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that 
turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." 



INFANT SALVATION. 



129 



tire suck as died in infancy. This sends back our 
thoughts to former ages and dispensations. Not to 
the gospel age alone, and not to gospel lands alone, 
must the work of God's salvation be restricted. We 
learn from this text that, even in the days of old, 
and among all heathen countries where God was not 
known and where the Saviour was never heard of, 
Jesus was, notwithstanding, perpetually seeing of the 
travail of His soul in the salvation of all who died in 
infancy. Yes; at no era has "the serpent" had the 
majority. The " great multitude" whom John saw in 
heaven was mostly made up of children; and if the 
same proportion be maintained to the end of the 
world, that at present defines the comparative num- 
bers of such as die in infancy and old age, through all 
eternity it must be true that " of such — of infants — 
is the kingdom of heaven" chiefly made up. Now, 
this could not be the case on any other supposition 
than that all who die in infancy are saved. Apart, 
then, from the blessedness which this passage secures 
to infants, how gratifying to every christian heart 
must the thought be, that from the very beginning it 
has been, and that to the very end it shall be, that 
our Divine Saviour has always had the victory, 
always the majority! And how pleasing to parents 
ought it to be, that this glorious result is secured by 
that mysterious providential arrangement which calls 
away into the eternal world at least one-half of the 
population of the globe, before they sin "after the 
similitude of Adam's transgression!" Such is the 



130 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



view taken of this passage by the most judicious com- 
mentators. In the following sentence, John Newton 
s]3eaks for them all : — " In these words our Lord 
informs us of a fact, that the number of infants who 
are effectually redeemed to God by His blood, so 
greatly exceeds the aggregate of adult believers, that, 
comparatively, His kingdom may be said to consist of 
little children." .... 

The salvation of .children seems thus clearly to be the 
doctrine of the Word of God. The opposite doctrine 
may become the worshippers of Moloch, but should be 
driven for ever from the creed of those who call upon 
Him whose name is " Love," who follow that " Good 
Shepherd" who "gatkereth the lambs in His arms, and 
carrieth them in His bosom," and who put all their 
trust in Him whose latest instructions on earth were 
given to an apostle, in words ever memorable, as evi- 
dencing His own remarkable love for the young, and 
as affording a test by which others are to evidence 
their love for Himself — Feed my lambs.* 



REV. DR. GEORGE TURNER, SAMOA, 

Dr. Turner, in his intensely interesting and valuable 
work, entitled, " Nineteen Years in Polynesia," gives 

* Why Weepest Thou ? or, The Cry from Raraah Hushed by the 
Voice from Heaven. By Key. John Macfarlane, LL.D., Clapham. 
London : James Nisbet & Co.- 



INFANT SALVATION". 



131 



the following particulars regarding the conversion of 
a native : — 

" After a time," says the native, "one of my children 
died, then another, and a third, and a fourth. My 
wife and I began to think that God was in this way 
punishing us for the neglect of His "Word. I was 
struck, too, at this time, with what the teacher said to 
me. He said that my children were safe in heaven, 
and that I might go to them, but they would never 
come to me. I determined to go to them, and began 
afresh to seek salvation. I felt, also, a strong desire 
to devote the remainder of my days to the service of 
Christ." 



EEV. DE. ANDERSON. 

Next to the angels, the heavenly department of the 
family is composed of the departed saints— of the 
patriarchs and prophets; of the apostles and martyrs 
and reformers ; of all the pious who have died since 
righteous Abel till the present hour; and all the 
infants, saint-born or not— every one of them, with 
their spirits as manly as those of the longest-lived 
patriarch. ' 

* 1 Cor. xv. 43, " It is sown in. weakness, it is raised in power; " 
which is, bv interpretation, Sown in infancy, raised in manhood. 
Edinburgh:" Adam & Charles Black's edition of Anderson's Dis- 
courses (Second Series). 1860. 



132 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



REV. ROBERT SCOTT, CANADA. 
Rejoice, Christian mother, that the vision that some- 
times comes to you in the night watches, and visits 
you by day, when, for a moment, or it may be for 
more, you retire in spirit from the things that are 
around, and you see the loved little one's form near 
you, is not a mere dream. It is, as it were, your 
little one looking in through the windows of your day- 
tent, upon your spirit dwelling within. When you 
pass outside, and enter the unseen and eternal world, 
you shall find your child again, your companion 
-through a long, loving eternity. Need I say more. 
You feel the question is not whether your child lives 
and is happy amidst the redeemed in the better land, 
but whether you shall be there. Then seek to live so 
that you may enter within the gates of your heavenly 
home, and be a meet companion of your little child in 
that pure and holy land. 



DR. CHALMERS. 

I cannot believe that the Saviour, who evinced such 
attachment to children upon earth, who took them in 
His arms and blessed them, who rebuked the apostles 
for forbidding their approach to His person, who 

declared that of such is the kingdom of heaven I 

cannot believe that the infant flower, which so soon 
lies withered upon its stalk, is not transplanted into 
those unfading bowers where it will flourish in all the 
bloom and vigour of immortality. 



INFANT SALVATION. 



133 



REV. DR. LAWSON. 

This venerated divine says, in his " Reflections on the 
Death of a Beloved Daughter,"—" He will compensate 
all her sorrows in that land where sorrow and sighing 
shall flee away. Sweet hope ! Let no man attempt 
to bereave me of it. It is founded on the Scriptures, 
on the mercy of God, and on the exceedingly abundant 
grace of the Lord Jesus Christ. I will not renounce 
this hope. It appears to me to be founded on the 
sure word of God." 



CHARTERS. 

They are born for a better world than this ; they just- 
enter this state of tribulation; they quickly pass 
through it ; their robes are washed white in the blood 
of the Lamb, and they are admitted for His sake 
before the Throne. 



JEREMY TAYLOR. 

Why should Jesus be an infant, but that infants 
should receive the crown of their age, the purification 
of their sainted nature, the sanctification of their 
persons, and the saving of their souls by then infant 
Lord and Elder Brother. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



REV. JOHN NEWTON. 

I am willing to believe, till the Scripture forbids rue, 
that infants of all nations and kindreds, without 
exception, who die before they are capable of sinning 
"after the similitude of Adam's transgression/' who 
have done nothing in the body of which they can give 
account, are included in the election of grace; and that 
the words of our Lord with respect to another class of 
persons, are applicable to them : " It is not the will of 
your Father in heaven that one of these little ones 
should perish." 



DR. JOHN PYE SMITH. 

Ouk dear child was thus early taken into the bosom 
of the covenant Redeemer, the tender Shepherd who 
gathers the lambs in His arms, and who has declared, 
" of such is the kingdom of heaven." 



CONSOLATION. 



PARENTAL ANXIETY REMOVED BY THE EARLY 
DEATH OF CHILDREN. 

Rev. De. John Macfaelane, Lokdox. 

The ardent love you have for your children is not 
altogether pleasurable. It necessarily carries you into 
many anxious thoughts about their welfare. In this 
sense, they are a burden to you, and this burden 
becomes all the heavier the more you love them. Your 
own experience of this world has not exalted it, as a 
place of residence, in your estimation. You have tested 
its promises, and found them false and vain. You 
have tasted its pleasures, and found that they 4 c sting 
like an adder, and bite like a serpent." You have 
groaned under its pains and penalties, and you have 
found out that help from man is in vain, and that 
miserable comforters are all that crowd around you in 
the night seasons of your soul, and sore disquietudes. 
You, therefore, tremble when you think of your darling 
infants living to be cast upon such revolutionary periods 
in the troubled life of man, wherein, though they may 
preserve their integrity, they must endure hardships, 



136 



WORDS OF COMFORT, 



but ill which, also, they may lose their precious souls 
for ever. Their futurity, then, is at once your main 
difficulty, and your most fertile source of anxious fore- 
boding. Now, has not their early death solved this 
difficulty for you, and ought it not, therefore, also to 
be your consolation 1 You will never have any more 
anxiety on their account. The various hiding-places 
in your hearts, from which these anxieties spring upon 
you, have been searched, and by death have been 
completely emptied. Their education is completed. 
They " know as they are known." Your utmost wish 
in this respect was to give them, if not a learned, at 
least a useful education. But God has been better 
than your wish. They are now in knowledge far 
beyond the most splendid scholars and most profound 
philosophers of this and of every age. Their intellectual 
stature is only to be accounted small when compared 
with the wisdom of God Himself. Neither before 
angels, nor the spirits of the just made perfect, have 
they to veil their faces. Their holiness is perfected. 
Not one of the infirmities they inherited from you now 
appertains to them, they are " holy as God is holy." 
Did you tremble at the thought of their exposure to 
the temptations of Satan and the flesh ? Be assured 
now that they are "more than conquerors through. 
Him that loved them."' Exquisitely beautiful now 
are those dear creatures in all the graces of the family 
of God. Their thoughts, their desires, their actions 
are at this moment in perfect harmony with the mind 
of the Holy One of Israel. The same mind that is in 



CONSOLATION. 



137 



Christ is in them ; they do the will of their heavenly 
Father, and He is pleased with them every moment, 
and every moment delights their happy souls with His 
approving smile. Theih happiness is consummated. 
You were not at ease as to measures for their future 
provision, and even with respect to the most likely 
ones, you feared that they might fail. To make them 
comfortable for life, you were ready to sacrifice much, 
and you never wearied in efforts to secure for them an 
honourable independence. Their futurity was upon 
your minds all the day, and oft took from you the 
sleep of all the night. Surely, then, you may cease 
from lamentation, when you are certified that, as they 
shall sin no more, so neither shall they suffer any more. 
They are as happy now as they can be. God has pro- 
vided for them in heaven. They are now inheriting 
the promises. They are now in actual possession and 
enjoyment of "that inheritance which is incorruptible 
and undefiled, and that fadeth not away." Within 
them is a " well of water springing up into everlasting 
life;" without them is the perennial flow of the river 
of life; above them is the unclouded sun of God's 
favour; and around them are gathered the inexhaustible 
fountains of celestial bliss. They are so happy now 
that they are for ever singing. And if ever there 
should be a " Selah" to their song, it is only to draw 
in a larger inspiration for a more melodious burst of 
praise. They would not return to you now, much 
though they loved you and you them. They do not 
miss you now, much, though you miss them. Your 

K 



133 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



sorrows do not diminish their joys, and their joys 

ought to diminish your sorrows. O, who would bring 

them back again here, to toil, and sweat, and suffer, 

and, perhaps, to sin without penitence, and to die 

without faith ? You, 0 weeping parent, ought to be 

the very last to think of it, and yours should ever be 

the song of gratitude, — 

;i 0 blest exchange ! O envied lot ! 
"Without a conflict crowned ; 
Stranger to pain— in pleasure placed— 
And, without fame, renowned." 



Towards the close of the chapter from which we 
have just quoted, the eloquent author, in illustrating 
the point, " God in Christ has done it all in Love' : thus 
writes : — 

We say, "if you will believe;' 1 for you must wait 
on two issues — upon your own experience of its blessed 
effects upon your heart and life, and upon the grand 
finale, the glories of the happy day when God shall 
sire you the children back again. With regard to 
the first, watch, and you shall see the love of the dis- 
pensation in your own alienation from sin, the world, 
and the flesh — in your meek and spiritual devotedness 
to the realities of a religious life — and in your humble, 
but cheerful hopes of a re-union where the agony of 
separation is never to be repeated. And with regard 
to the second, wait till the appointed hour, and then 
your hearts shall be more than satisfied that it was all 
done out of purest love. At death, you yourselves 



CONSOLATION. 



139 



shall be consummately holy and happy, and then you 
shall get back again, from your heavenly Father, every 
child that has left you for heaven. You rejoiced, O 
weeping mother, when it was announced that a man- 
child was born into the world ! How rapturous shall 
be that joy when, on your own arrival at the gates of 
Paradise, that child will be the first to welcome you, 
and to conduct you to His presence who redeemed you 
both unto God through His blood ! What an incon- 
ceivably beautiful creature by that time must that 
child have become! You admired his beauty here, 
and the witchery of his smile threw the spell of almost 
perfect joy around your heart. 0 what a contrast, 
even to this carnal loveliness, shall the celestial perfec- 
tion be! And then, you know that it is to be for 
ever ; that no sin now dwells in that soul, and that no 
sorrow shall ever sadden that countenance; that the 
child and you are to dwell for ever in Christ's presence, 
engage for ever in Christ's service, and promote for 
ever Christ's glory. You will then be convinced that 
the dispensation, which at present you think justifies 
these tears, was the fruit of love — of pure, pure and 
invaluable love. But why not be convinced of this 
now? It is as true now as it shall be then. Only 
believe this, and your heart shall let go its hold of 
grief, and bound forward amid the tranquillities and 
the music of such a strong consolation. It is among 
these that the voice of Christ is heard— a still small 
voice; but one that whispers, "weep not." Do you 
not hear Him ? Are you not comforted 2 You cannot 



no 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



fail to hear Him, for His is a voice that "makes the 
soul plant itself in the ears." You cannot fail to be 
comforted, for His is a love that never fails to say of 
whatever it undertakes,— 4 £ It is Finished." 



DEATH OF WILLIE — A TOUCHING SCENE. 

Dr. Macfarlane refers as follows to the death of his 
dear boy : — 

I was leaving for London, on important public 
and benevolent business. It was twilight; the con- 
veyance was at the verandah before the door, ready 
to take me into town to the night mail train, and 
I w^as alone in the library. I heard a gentle knock. 
" Come in," I said. The door opened, and Willie 
entered, somewhat shy, led in by his sister, her 
one arm thrown around his neck. " Well, dears," 
I asked, "what is it?" "This is Willie, papa," 
said the girl. "And what does Willie wish with 
papa 1 " " He would not allow nurse to undress Mm 
till he said ' good-bye ' to you." I took him up and 
kissed him, but he spake not a word, and left the 
room as he had entered it. Being rather busily 
engaged, this incident passed almost unnoticed. In 
a few minutes, however, I heard the same gentle tap 
again, and, on opening the door, there stood the two 
children precisely as before. They entered. "What 
is wanted now," I enquired. " This is Willie, papa," 
replied his sister, " and he wont go to bed till he 
says good-bye again to papa." The same thoughtful 



CONSOLATION. 



141 



and melancholy look was upon his face as I kissed him 
again, and, without speaking a word, he withdrew. 
When one is going far from home, and leaving behind 
him a young and happy family, an " eiriness" is apt to 
steal over the mind, despite of every effort to cast it off. 
I never felt it so powerfully as on this occasion, and 
these very marked farewells of this fine child added not 
a little to its discomfort, I was seated in the carriage, 
and had bidden adieu to the rest, when out from the 
verandah rushed the little fellow, pursued by his nurse. 
" He insists," she said, " on saying good-bye once more 
to papa," It was done. Yes ; it was done. My next 
kiss was upon the cold marble brow of death ! 

On that day week, and about the same hour, I 
returned to London from Oxford, where, amid its 
ancient colleges and classic scenes, I had passed the 
day with a few friends. The letter from home told 
me that Willie had been taken ill, but the hope was 
cherished that he would soon rally. Sleep deserted 
my eyes that night. The morning scenes in the 
avenue, and the evening scenes in the library, presented 
themselves before me, and something whispered that 
there might be sad work at home. But I repudiated 
the thought of death, and waited on the letter of the 
following day with some degree of confidence. I had 
been driving about the whole of that day with my friend 
Dr. William Anderson, on the business of our mission 
to London, and had just reached my hospitable home 
in Regent Street, when the anxiously expected letter 
was given to me. I could not open it. I saw on the 



142 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



face of friends the shadows of evil tidings, and I asked, 
"Is he gone f " Their silence was assent. I sought my 
private room ; but more than this you must not ask me 
to reveal. Willie was dead. While I was roaming 
among the ancient halls and academic groves of Oxford, 
the soul of the dear child left the world for heaven/' 

The following is an interesting extract from a letter 
addressed to Dr. Macfarlane, on the death of Willie, 
by the late Hev. Dr. William Symington, Glasgow, 
for many years an esteemed Professor of Theology to 
the Reformed Presbyterian Church: — 

You know the sources of comfort, and I trust that 
the Spirit of promise will open them fully to your 
bleeding hearts, and enable you both to drink abund- 
antly. When Christ draws, it is not for us to hold. 
When the Beloved comes down to His garden to 
"gather lilies," it is not for us to find fault with Him 
when He fixes on those which are not fully blown. 
There is another clime in which they will unfold all 
their beauties, and exhale all their sweetness. With 
the words, full of consolation to the bereaved parent, 
before us, — " Suffer the little children to come unto 
me, and forbid them not : for of such is the kingdom 
of God," we ought to be able to say, — "The Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be the 
name of the Lord." 

* The reader will find lines by Dr. Macfarlane, on this affecting 
incident, in the poetical section, under the title, " I'm Going 
Home." 



CONSOLATION". 



143 



THE FIRST FAMILY FUNERAL. 

Dr. Macfarlane. 

Few fathers will forget their first family interment, 
when they stood at the gates of "the house appointed 
for all living," and knocked for admission to the dust of 
their little ones. It was then that they took infeftment 
of their mother Earth, and deposited their own claim 
to a place ere long in her bosom. It was then that 
they saicl, "The grave is mine house." How affecting 
are these lines of good old Samuel Rutherford, which 
he inscribed on the tombs of his children — 

" Holy earth ! to thee I trust 
These bonnie heaps o' precious dust ; 
Keep them safely, sacred tomb, 
Till a father asks for room." 

How exalting and sublime the feeling of that father 
who buries his dead in the sure and certain hope of a 
blessed and glorious immortality ! This, indeed, is the 
only thought that can sustain him, and a powerful one 
it is, suited to the exigency, and « mighty to save" the 
agonised heart from the sin of mourning, and from the 
curse of godless sorrow. Such were our consolations 
at this time. We believed that the boy was saved, 
through the blood of Christ, and that in due time we 
should be re-united, where separation is unknown. 
Many precious comforts were administered to us by 
kind and valuable friends; but if I am to judge by the 
almost electric effect which it had upon myself, in at 



1U 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



once staying grief, and filling the heart with resignation, 
I would assign the palm to one short and simple sen- 
tence of an eminent man of God — Rev. John Brown, 
D.D., Edinburgh — in a consolatory note which was 
th en received from him : — 

" Weep kot ; your son is safe for ever. ,? 

We remember, and ever will remember, the hold which 
these words took of the mind, the instantaneous relief 
which they brought, and the solacing reflections to 
which they gave birth. It was, indeed, a " word in 
season." Often since have I used them in the waste 
places, and at the tearful times of parental sorrow, and 
always with a good effect. If not pebbles from the 
brook levelled at the head of defiant grief, they are 
surely drops from Heaven's " oil of joy," that mollifv 
the wounds, and tranquillize the agitations of such 
memorable conflicts between nature and o T ace.* 



INGREDIENTS OF PARENTAL BEREAVEMENT. 
Rev. Dr. John Brown, Edinburgh. 

The cup of bitter sorrow, of which bereaved parents 
drink, is composed of various ingredients. There is 
the privation of pure and exquisite enjoyment. The 

* Why Weepest thou? or, The Cry from Eamah Hushed by the 
Voice from Heaven. A manual for bereaved parents. By the Rev. 
John Macfarlane, LL.D., United Presbyterian Church, Clapham. 
London : James Nisbet & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



145 



amount of pleasurable feeling communicated to all 
lightly-constituted minds and hearts, and especially to 
the parental mind and heart, by familiar intercourse 
with children, is very great. It is a very deep and 
dark cloud of sorrow on which their smile cannot 
shed a beam of gladness ; and amid the cares and 
anxieties of life, their spontaneous endearments are a 
balm of most soothing influence to the hurt mind and 
heavy heart; while to witness the dawn of reason, and 
the development of affection — to plant the seeds of 
truth, and to watch and train the tender thoughts as 
they bud and blossom, affords one of the highest intel- 
lectual and moral pleasures of which we are capable. 
All this is gone, gone for ever, and we feel for the 
moment more miserable than if we had never tasted 
delights so like paradise, so exquisite and so pure. 

Then, there is the extinction of fondly-cherished 
hopes. The little beautiful shoots which have been 
torn up, might have grown and flourished, and become 
stately fruit-bearing trees. We hoped, and we thought 
we had grounds for our hope, that when we were gone 
these children would, to society and the church, more 
than supply our place. "We hoped that they would 
cheer our path as it declined towards the grave. " In 
their affectionate attentions," to use the words of 
Belfrage, " we expected a solace to our sorrows, a 
refuge from our fears. We hoped to die in their arms, 
live in their remembrance, and be honoured in their 
virtues." But in the death of our children these hopes 
are blasted ; and if hope deferred makes the heart sicJc, 



146 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



hope disappointed, utterly frustrated, makes the heart 

die within one. 

" Our hopes and our prospects are shaded, 

For the plants that inspir'd them have shed 
Their foliage, all green and unfaded, 
Ere the beauty of spring-time had fled." 

The onward prospect of life is dark and dreary, 
bleak and comfortless. The helplessness of age, with- 
out their arm to lean on — the solitude of the sick 
chamber uncheered by their presence, unbrightened by 
their smile — the parting pang unsoothed hj their sym- 
pathy — the hands of comparative strangers closing our 
eyes and laying us in the dust. Yes ; it is painful to 
mourn for those who, we had expected, should have 
mourned for us — to lay those in the grave by whom 
we expected to be laid in the grave. 

"What fond calculations," says Dr. Doddridge, 
smarting under the loss of a dear child — "what fond 
calculations do we form of what they will be from 
what they are ! How do we in thought open every 
blossom of sprightliness or humanity, or piety, to its 
full-spread, and ripen it to a sudden maturity ! But 
oh, who shall teach those wdio never felt it, how it 
tears the very soul when God roots up the tender 
plant with inexorable hand, and withers the bud in 
which the colours were beginning to glow ! "Where is 
our hope % In the coffin — in the grave." 

A living writer, to whom we are much indebted in 
these pages, makes the following observation on the 
foregoing extracts: — 



CONSOLATION. 



147 



When Dr. Doddridge, Dr. Brown, Dr. Belfrage, and 
other eminent saints express their experience in lan- 
guage of such poignant grief, bereaved parents need 
not wonder that they, too, feel very poignantly ; and 
should beware of condemning themselves as guilty of 
an immoderate, sinful sorrow, when they only experi- 
ence and manifest such natural affection as is common 
to all the saints. Especially, let some of those " misera- 
ble comforters" be rebuked, who, on their visits of 
consolation, will challenge a mother's tears as flowing 
from unbelief ! 



DAVID MOURNING OVER HIS CHILD. 
Dr. BpvOWN. 

Of all the recorded examples of dutiful suffering under 
bereavement, recorded in Scripture, none is more 
rich in appropriate instruction to parents mourning- 
the loss of young children, than that of David. The 
narrative is so full of beauty and interest, that I give 
it in the inspired historian's own words : 2 Sam. xii. 

15 " The Lord struck the child that Uriah's wife bare 

to David, and it was very sick. David, therefore, 
besought God for the child; and David fasted and went 
in, and lay all night upon the earth. And the elders 
of his house arose, and went to him, to rouse him up 
from the earth : but he would not, neither did he eat 
bread with them. And it came to pass on the seventh 
day, that the child died. And the servants of David 



148 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



feared to tell him that the child was dead : for they 
said, Behold, while the child was yet alive, we spake 
unto him, and he would not hearken unto our voice : 
how will he then vex himself, if we tell him that the 
child is dead ? But when David saw that his servants 
whispered, David perceived that the child was dead : 
therefore David said unto his servants, Is the child 
dead ? and they said, He is dead. Then David arose 
from the earth, and washed, and anointed himself, and 
changed his apparel, and came into the house of the 
Lord, and worshipped: then he came to his own house; 
and when he required, they set bread before him, and 
he did eat. Then said his servants unto him, What 
thing is this that thou hast done ? thou didst fast and 
weep for the child, while it was alive ; but when the 
child was dead, thou didst rise and eat bread. And 
he said, While the child was yet alive, I fasted and 
wept : for I said, Who can tell whether God will be 
gracious to me, that the child may live ? But now he 
is dead, wherefore should I fast? can I bring him 
back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not 
return to me." 

There is a more touching picture of silent suffering 
presented to us in the inspired page still. "There 
stood by the cross of Jesus his mother." Was there 
ever mere mortal sorrow like her sorrow? Simeon's 
prediction is now fulfilled. " A sword pierced through 
her soul." Yet, to use the words of an old divine, 
"she stood without clamour of womanish noises, sad 
and silent, and with a modest grief, deep as the waters 



CONSOLATION. 



14D 



of the abyss, but smooth as the face of a pool ; full of 
love, and patience, and sorrow, and hope : but her 
hope drew a vail before her sorrow ■ and though her 
grief was great enough to swallow her up, yet her love 
was greater, and did swallow up her grief." 



RECOGNITION OF CHILDREN IN HEAVEN. 
Dr. Brown. 

With what delight will parents, themselves released 
from the captivity of the grave, behold their early-lost, 
long-mourned children coming forth, not the pale, 
emaciated, lifeless, ghastly forms they reluctantly com- 
mitted to the grave, but strong in incorruptibility, 
glorious in beauty, " fashioned like unto Christ's glori- 
ous body." Then shall it appear to the assembled 
universe, that among the redeemed of the Lord, fathers 
have not hoped in vain, nor mothers brought forth for 
trouble. "They are the seed of the blessed of the 
Lord, and their offspring with them." 

But it will be long, long ere they return. The 
captivity of death is measured, not by years, but by 
ages. What then? It is but the few, it may be the 
very few, remaining days of the years of our pilgrimage, 
which prevent our spirits from embracing theirs ; and 
in the resting-places prepared for us, though we shall 
not cease to desire, we shall never weary for " the 
adoption, the redemption of the body." "Be patient, 
brethren, unto the coming of the Lord, Behold, the 



150 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the 
earth, and hath long patience for it, until he receive 
the early and latter rain. Be ye also patient : and 
stablish your heart?/' Then " those young and tender 
plants, which are now cut down and withering around 
11s, shall spring up in fairer and more durable forms." 
"The children of the resurrection cannot die anymore, 
but are equal to the angels." 

Having been raised from the dead, they shall 
"mount up together in clouds," along with those who 
have been miraculously changed, "to meet the Lord 
in the air : and so shall they ever be with the Lord." 
Among that glorious company shall be found those 
infants and little children whose untimely departure to 
"the land of the enemy' drew forth such tender regrets 
and bitter tears. They shall not only " return," but 
'•'come to Zion, with songs and everlasting joy upon 
their heads : they shall obtain joy and gladness, and 
sorrow and sighing shall nee away." They shall not 
only leave for ever the dark and lonesome abodes of 
death, but they shall for ever dwell in the cheerful 
regions of perfect life and light and joy. They shall not 
only be brought from the land of the enemy, but they 
shall be "brought in and be planted in the mountain 
of Jehovah's inheritance, in the place which He has 
made for Himself to dwell in, in the sanctuary which 
His hand has established." There " Jehovah- Jesus 
shall reign for ever and ever," and there "they shall 
reign with Him." The long silence of the grave shall 
be exchanged for the ceaseless ever-new sono-s of Closes 



CONSOLATION. 



151 



and the Lamb. " Sing unto the Lord, for He has 
triumphed gloriously. Who is like unto Jehovah 
among the gods? Who is like unto Him, glorious 
in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders % He has 
ransomed us from the power of the grave. He has 
redeemed us from death. He has swallowed up death 
in life. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where 
is thy victory? Thanks be to Him who has given us 
the victory. Salvation to our God and to the Lamb, 
for ever and ever. To Him who loved us, and washed 
us from our sins in His own blood \ to Him be glory 
and honour for ever and ever. Worthy is the Lamb 
that was slain, slain for us. Hallelujah !" And again 
and again and again the great multitude, with a voice 
as of many waters and mighty thunderings, shall shout 
4 'Hallelujah!" And none in all the happy company 
will sin£ more sweetly than the little children. 

Then, indeed, shall be brought to pass the saying 
that is written, "Out of the mouths of babes and 
sucklings thou hast perfected praise.'' 



RE-UNION IN HEAVEN. 
Dr. Brown. 

Christians have the prospect of a happy, and not 
distant, re-union with the children of whom they have 
been bereaved. 

To a Christian parent mourning the death of little 
children, there is much consolation in the reflection 



152 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



which quieted the mind of David when deprived of a 
child very dear to him, " I shall go to him." " When 
a few years are come, I too must go the way whence 
I shall never return." " If my children had not left 
me, I must have left them • and, in this case, the pang 
of separation might not have been less painful, nor the 
period of separation shorter, than in the case that has 
occurred. I shall soon go to the grave to my children ■ 
we shall mingle our ashes in the dust, 'where the 
wicked cease from troubling, where the weary are at 
rest.' I shall soon go to my children in the world of 
spirits, and there be with them, where they are, with 
the Lord j and the meeting, which cannot be distant, 
will be a meeting never to part. We shall be together 
in the resurrection, together at the judgment -seat ; 
together shall we ascend to heaven, and together we 
shall be for ever with the Lord. Though they have 
departed for a season, it is that I should receive them 
for ever. They are gone to finish their education 
under far more favourable circumstances than those 
under which they could have prosecuted it in this 
world ; and when we meet, which must be ere long, 
I shall find them in holiness and happiness, — all I 
could desire, more than I can conceive/' " They are 
still our children," says Charters, " objects of our 
love, worthier now that they are purified from 
mortality. In that land of love where they now 
dwell, we cannot doubt that they remember us with 
peculiar affection; and shall we not cherish for them 
an affection suited to their improved character and 



CONSOLATION. 



153 



situation I Let us follow them with a purified love ; 
let us ascend, even now, by faith, to the world of 
spirits, and rejoice in their joy. Thus will they still 
be our companions, our comfort, our hope, in the house 
of our pilgrimage."* 



REV. DR. BROWN 1 S LITTLE MAGGIE. 
By his Sox, John Brown, M.D. 
In the case of the death of little Maggie — a child the 
very image of himself, in face lovely and pensive, and 
yet ready for any fun; with a keenness of affection that 
perilled everything on being loved ; who must cling to 
some one and be clasped ; made for a garden, for the 
first garden, not for the rough world ; the child of his 
old age — this peculiar meeting of opposites was very 
marked. She was stricken with sudden illness, malig- 
nant sore throat; her mother was gone, and so she was 
to my father as a flower he had the sole keeping of; 
and his joy in her wild mirth, his watching her childish 
moods of sadness, as if a shadow came over her young- 
heaven, were themselves something to watch. Her 
delicate life made no struggle with disease ; it, as it 
were, declined to stay on such conditions. She, there- 
fore, sank at once, and, without much pain, her soul 
quick and unclouded, and her little forefinger playing 
to the last with my father's silvery curls, her eyes 
trying in vain to brighten his, — ■ 

* Comfortable Words for Christian Parents Bereaved of Little 
Children. By John Brown, D.D. Edinburgh : W. Oliphant & Co. 



154 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



44 Thou wert a dew-drop which the morn brings forth, 
Not fitted to be trailed along the soiling earth ; 
But at the touch of wrong, without a strife, 
Slips in a moment out of life." 

His distress— his anguish at this stroke, was not only 
intense, it was, in its essence, permanent; he went 
mourning and looking for her all his days ; but after 
she was dead, that resolved will compacted him in an 
instant. It was on a Sabbath morning she died, and 
he was all day at church, not many yards from where 
lay her little corpse alone in the house. His colleague 
preached in the forenoon, and in the afternoon he took 
his turn, saying, before beginning his discourse: — "It 
has pleased the Father of Lights to darken one of the 
lights of my dwelling— had the child lived, I would 
have remained with her : but now I have thought it 
right to arise and come into the house of the Lord and 
worship." " 



DISSUASIVES FROM EXCESSIVE GRIEF. 
Rev. Dr. William Anderson, Glasgow. 
Let Christian parents evince their faith by the modera- 
tion of their grief for the death of their infant children. 
I inculcate no fantastical state of feeling — no un 
mingled joy. There are two parties whose advantage 
the dispensation contemplates — yourself and your child 

* Supplementary Chapter to the Life of Rev. John Brown 
D.D. : a Letter to Rev. John Cairns, D.D. By John Brown. M.D 
Edinburgh : Edmonston & Douglas. I860. 



CONSOLATION". 



155 



Your own advantage may be that of saving you from 
the vexation of that child's wickedness when alive, and 
the anguish of fearing, at his death, that he was lost 
for ever. How many tormented parents can tell, that 
their living children occasion them more grief than 
those who have died; and that they would have been 
less miserable had those who survive died in early age 
also? It may be to save you this worse sorrow, that 
God, in mercy, has sent you the milder.. But, pro- 
bably, the bereavement is designed for your correction. 
Search, therefore, and see if there be any evil on 
account of which the Lord has dealt thus with you: 
and reflect, that it may not be so much the idolatry of 
your child as some other sin which He rebukes. To 
search for the cause only in this direction, as many 
parents do, taking credit to themselves all the while 
for peculiar parental tenderness, is an ignorant limiting 
of divine discipline, and a missing of its profit. It 
may be prayerlessness, or pride, or worldliness, or 
family discord, or negligence in the training of your 
other children, or neglect or contempt of the children 
of the poor, which the Lord designs to chastise. What- 
ever may be any stubborn or growing sin which you 
detect in your character, you will be right in concluding 
that it was part of the reason, at least, wherefore the 
Lord bereaved you of your pleasant child. He designs 
you should feel it sore. Otherwise it will not profit 
you. Weep for yourself. But as you would not 
increase your sin, and incur more chastisement, weep 
not for the infant, as if he had sustained any loss. In 



156 



WOKDS OF COMFOST 



any circumstances, if the world would have been no 
kinder to him than it has been to his father or mother, 
I am sure he has not lost much, in respect of its favours. 
But, generally considered, we have reason for fearing, 
both from the warnings of prophecy and the signs of 
the times, that the rising generation will fall on more 
troublous days than those which their fathers have 
enjoyed. On this view, however, I do not dwell. 
Assuming the present course of things as a rule by 
which to judge of the future — what snares and pitfalls 
may have been in your child's path ! And the fairer 
he was, the more amiable in natural disposition, the 
brighter his intellectual promise, may not the dangers 
have been greater; so as to show it richness of mercy 
in God, who foresaw them, to take him away from 
evil to come 1 Or, if you feel it ungenerous to insinu- 
ate the possibility of his having become a wicked man, 
might he not have been a sorely afflicted man — agonized 
for years with lingering disease, or betrayed, or slan- 
dered and disgraced, or made a miserable bankrupt, or 
wrecked at sea and cast on a savage coast ! "When 
there were such possibilities, how can you grieve that 
the Lord has secured him in His own pavilion, till all 
calamities be overpast '? 

" Whom the gods love, die young," was said of yore ; 
And many deaths do they escape "by this — 
The death of friends, and that which pains still more, 
The death of friendship, love, youth, all that is, 
Except mere breath ; and, since the silent shore 
Awaits at last even those whom longest miss 
The shafts of death; be sure, an early grave, 
Which men weep over, is designed to save. 



CONSOLATION. 



157 



But not only is your child saved; he is safe for you; 
reserved for you to be restored to your sight and 
affections. Believe that: make it a subject of conver- 
sation betwixt yourself and your spouse : speak of it 
to your other children. " Comfort one another with 
these words," says the Apostle, in reference to this 
very subject. You will find no other on which you 
can converse more freely and profitably 

Let that parent be comforted who laments the defor- 
mity of his child. Why so anguished when you see 
the sprightly dance of the children of others, and your 
own daughter sitting solitary and neglected 1 Know 
you not, that her deformity has saved her for yon, that 
you may have her so beautiful and graceful in the day 
when that which "is sown in dishonour shall be raised 
in glory ?' And there is your boy, too, so dull and far 
behind in scholarship, when, on examination-clay, his 
cousins are so admired and honoured with gifts : Why 
does this also vex you so much, being a believer ] I'll 
tell you what; I have an impression that Lazarus, 
whom Jesus loved, was weak in intellect : and think 
you that his Friend will not display him in that Day, 
glorified in mind as well as in body, with one of the 
highest prizes of the kingdom] Let your concern be, 
that your child be strong like Lazarus, strong in virtue, 
that is, warm in the love of Christ : this will secure 
your meeting with him glorified like Lazarus. 



158 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



GOD PRESENT WITH THE DEPARTED. 

De. Anderson. 

Your child has crossed the seas, and sojourns in a 
far and inhospitable land, out of sight, and beyond 
the reach of jour kindness ; but why so anxious and 
disconsolate ? Is not that God who is present with 
yourself, at the same moment present with him; and 
being both present with God, are you not in a very 
satisfactory sense present with one another, having a 
common all-powerful Friend to whom you may commend 
one another for guidance and protection? When an 
hour for prayer has been arranged at which both may 
meet at the same throne, the omnipresence of God is 
the sweetest of consolations for separated friends. But 
your child, you say, has died: if this make the case 
different, it differs for the better. That God who is 
present with yourself, is present with the spirit of your 
child in Heaven, and with the dust of his body in the 
grave, preserving all in security. You were weeping 
as if your child had been lost to you : faithless one ! 
feel how the doctrine of the divine omnipresence has 
recovered him, and brought him near to you. You 
must not, you need not, pray for your deceased child, 
that that God who is equally present with him, as with 
you, may bless him; unless it be for the hastening of his 
resurrection, and the transformation and resurrection 
of us all, saying, " Lord Jesus, come quickly." But 
this you can do — when you are communing with God 



CONSOLATION. 



159 



on earth, you can express to Him, in what confidence 
you rest satisfied, that, in Heaven, in the bosom of His 
Son, He cherishes the spirit of one whom you loved, yea 
whom vou still love, with such warmth and tenderness. 



RECOGNITION AFTER THE RESURRECTION. 

Dr. Anderson. 

How different in character will be the meeting after 
the resurrection! when that grave, feared as^ a de- 
stroyer, shall be demonstrated, as made of Christ, the 
regenerator of our friends— rendering back in incorrup- 
tion that which it received in corruption, in glory that 
which it received in dishonour, in power that which it 
received in weakness,* a spiritual body, fit as a taber- 
nacle for the glorified soul, that which it received a 
natural body, an impediment to its exercises. Hosan- 

* In the inscription on the tombstone of my child, I have thus 
paraphrased the Scripture, « Sown in Infancy, he shall be raised in 
Manhood."— When once comforting a bereaved saint with the assur- 
ance that she was the mother of a heavenly family, and that she 
would yet see her children in the kingdom, she inquired what I 
thought they would be like. I quoted 1 Cor. xv. 43 to her. « Does 
that mean," she said, " that they will appear like men?" I answered, 
" I thought many interpretations were further from the truth." " I 
like that well enough," she replied, "but 0, that it might please the 
Lord to show them to me, just as they were in this world, though it 
should be but for a minute! "—On the subject of the mode of recog- 
nition, I remark, that there are phenomena being daily exhibited, 
which make it no fantasy to suppose, that the ardent wish of a 
mother's heart going forth over the kingdom may have an attractive 
influence in selecting and bringing her child to her side. 



160 WOJXDS OF COilFORT. 

nali to the Lord of Resurrection, for this blessed 
hope ! Yea, so overwhelming is its glory, that it is 
like to obscure our faith. How shall" the mother 
recognise her son, who departed from her an emaciated 
infant, in yonder angelic form in the vigour and 
brilliancy of resurrection manhood ? And how shall 
the father, who wept bitter tears in secret over his 
daughter's decrepitude, distinguish her in vender seraph 
of celestial grace? What mean you, friends? You 
surely cannot wish to meet your children in that plight 
of wretchedness in which you bade them farewell,°so 
that, unassisted, you coidd of yourselves recognise 
them. The Lord will provide: but methinks it will, 
probably, be a busy day for those good angels who 
ministered to us on earth, finding us out for one 
another, and introducing us. Remembering how they 
had seen us grieve for one another, how sympathetically 
they will enjoy the scene, as we stand amazed for a 
while at one another's glory before we embrace! 

How many parents there are, who have almost 
entirely forgotten those of their children who died in 
infancy; and who, being enquired at about the number 
of their family, will, so unlike that sweet faithful child 
who so resolutely maintained "we are seven," give 
account only of those who live— the least worthy of 
being reckoned! Faithless father and mother, that 
you are! amid all your rapture, how ashamed you 
shall be of your forgetfulness, when these neglected 
ones are restored to you, so beautiful and glorious; 
and especially when, under that angel-guidance, they 



CONSOLATION. 



1G1 



hasten with such excitement to meet with those of 
whom they are told, that under the Creator they were 
the authors of their existence ! Nor will it be with 
little excitement that they hasten to meet you, their 
brothers and sisters, with whom they may associate 
and worship, as being more of their own nature than 
any others to be found in all the kingdom. The whole 
of you — brothers and sisters, as well as parents — 
meditate on them; the thought is most sanctifying: it 
endears the Redeemer with peculiar attraction to a 
tender heart; and, remember, there are no hearts great 
which are not tender. 



Alas! many a mother will not find her son there; 
and yet the Saviour will make her happy; there can 
be no grief in the Paradise of God, no, not even for a 
perished son: she could not endure him; and Christ 
will give Himself to her; and He will bring her some 
other woman's child, who has been seeking for his 
mother in vain; and He will say, Woman, behold thy 
son, and to him, Behold thy mother, and the wounds 
of the hearts of both shall be healed. And yet, you 
who live, see that you secure for the heavenly com- 
munion your own sons, and your own mothers: for, 
although new friends would suffice, old friends will be 
in many respects preferable.* 

* Discourses. (First Series.) By William Anderson, LL.D., 
Glasgow. Published 1844. 



162 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE LIGHT THAT RADIATES AROUND 
THE INFANT'S TOMB. 

Rev. Dr. Chalmers.* 

The following is an extract from Dr. Chalmers's. 
Lectures on the Romans, chap. iv. 9-15: — 

This affords, we think, something more than a 
dubious glimpse into the question that is often put by 
a distracted mother when her babe is taken away from 
h er — when all the converse it ever had with the world 
amounted to the gaze upon it of a few months, or a 
few opening smiles which marked the dawn of felt 
enjoyment — and ere it had reached perhaps the lisp of 
infancy, it — all unconscious of death, had to wrestle 
through a period of sickness with his power, and at 
length to be overcome by him. Oh, it little knew 
what an interest it had created in that home where it 
was so passing a visitant — nor, when carried to its 
early grave, what a tide of emotion it would raise 
among the few acquaintance it left behind ! On it, 
too, baptism was impressed as a seal, while as a sign it 
was never falsified. There was no positive unbelief in 
its little bosom — no resistance yet put forth to the 
truth — no love at all for the darkness rather than the 

* This indefatigable and singularly useful servant of Christ was 
born at Anstruther, Fifeshire, 17th March, 1780, and died at 
Edinburgh, May 30, 1847, when, to quote the words of Dr. Hanna, 
his genial biographer, "his spirit passed to its place of blessed- 
ness and glory in the heavens." The memory of Chalmers is 
f ondly cherished by vast numbers throughout the civilized world. 



CONSOLATION. 



163 



light—nor had it yet fallen into that great condemna- 
tion which will attach to all who perish because of 
unbelief, that their deeds are evil It is interesting to 
know that God instituted circumcision for the infant 
children of Jews, and at least suffered baptism for the 
infant children of those who profess Christianity. 
Should the child die in infancy, the use of baptism as 
a sign has never been thwarted by it ; and may we not 
be permitted to indulge a hope so pleasing, as that the 
use of baptism as a seal remains in all its entireness — 
that He who sanctioned the affixing of it to a babe 
will fulfil upon it the whole expression of this ordi- 
nance? And when we couple with this the known 
disposition of our great Forerunner — the love that He 
manifested to children on earth — how He suffered them 
to approach His person — and lavishing endearment 
and kindness upon them in the streets of Jerusalem, 
told His disciples that the presence and company of 
such as these in heaven formed one ingredient of the 
joy that was set before Him—tell us if Christianity do 
not throw a pleasing radiance around an infant's tomb I 
And should any parent who hears us feel softened by 
the touching remembrance of a light that twinkled a 
few short months under his roof, and at the end of its 
little period expired — we cannot think that we venture 
too far when we say that he has only to persevere in 
the faith and in the following of the gospel, and that 
very light will again shine upon him in heaven. The 
blossom which withered here upon its stalk has been 
transplanted there to a place of endurance, and it will 



164 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



then gladden that eye which now weeps out the agony 
of an affection that has been sorely wounded ; and in 
the name of Him, who if on earth would have wept 
along with them, do we bid all believers present to 
sorrow not even as others which have no hope, but to 
take comfort in the thought of that country where 
there is no sorrow and no separation. 

Oh, when a mother meets on high 

The babe she lost in infancy, 

Hath she not then, for pains and fears — 

The day of woe, the watchful night— 

For all her sorrow, all her tears — 

An over-payment of delight ? * 



" HOW ARE THE DEAD RAISED UP, AND WITH 
WHAT BODY DO THEY COME?" 

Rev. Prof. Islay Burns, P.P., Free Church College, 
Glasgow. 

"But how are the dead raised up, and with what body 
do they come?" The question will still recur, not on 
the suggestion only of a wistful curiosity, but under the 
pressure of those doubts which the physical difficulties 
of the case now, as in the Apostle's days, awaken. 
How shall it be possible even for Omnipotence itself to 
gather together again, from the sepulchres of all the 
ages, the dust of each of His saints, so long since 
dissolved, dispersed, blown about the world, mixed up 

* Lectures on the Epistle to the Eomans, pages 145-6. By 
Thomas Chalmers, P.P., LL.D. Edinburgh : Constable. 



CONSOLATION. 



165 



with other organisms, taken up into the very blood 
and flesh of other animals and other men, in the long- 
succession of ages I How shall each reclaim his own, 
when the same substance, the same identical particles 
have belonged successively to many] Can Omnipo- 
tence itself overcome the natural impossibility of the 
same atom being in two places and forming a part of 
two distinct material organisms, at once I Surely if 
the immortal spirits of men are again to be invested 
with a material form, it cannot be the same identical 
body which they laid aside at death, and which they left 
behind them in the grave. The obj ection is specious, but 
not solid. It is founded altogether, not on the diffi- 
culties of the doctrine itself, but on an erroneous and 
superficial understanding of the doctrine. The identity 
of animal organisms is an identity, not of particles, but 
of form and structure and continuous sentient life. 
Even during our present state of existence, while the 
organic identity of our bodies remains, their material 
substance is incessantly changing; so that in the course 
of a very few years every single atom of their present 
framework shall have passed away and given place 
to others. Thus, in this sense, the body of the 
child is different from the body of the boy, and 
the body of the boy from that of the man, and 
the substance we take from our mothers womb, is 
not the same, but wholly other than that which we 
shall lay in the tomb. It is not in this, then, that our 
true identity consists, seeing that amid all the inces- 
sant change that in this respect takes place, that 




166 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



identity remains all the while unaffected. There is no 
individuality in atoms; each one, so far as we know, is 
like another, and can contribute nothing therefore to 
the distinctive peculiarity or differentia of the bodies 
which they compose. I am what I am, not because I 
am composed of such and such particles, but because 
out of such particles I have been moulded by the 
plastic hand of God, into that distinctive form and 
type of organic subsistence which belongs to me, as an 
individual, and which is mine and not another's. Even 
if, by a miracle, every atom of my bodily substance 
were in an instant eliminated and substituted by 
others, I would still remain, as to everything which 
constitutes my true identity, alike in body as in soul, 
totally unchanged. In this sense, then, that is to say, 
in the sense, not of an atomic, but of an organic and 
vital identity — the body of our resurrection shall be 
the same with the body of our burial. As the body of 
our birth is the same with the body of our death ; so 
shall be the body of our death with the body of our 
immortality. It will be changed, and yet the same — 
changed in its conditions, properties, powers; the same 
in individual form and type, in its characteristic style 
and physiognomy, in the proportion of its parts, and 
its special adaptation to the uses of that one particular 
soul to which it inalienably belongs; so truly the same 
that both we ourselves shall be sure of it, and all 
who knew us before in the flesh shall recognise and 
know us again. It will be the same, though raised 
now to the full predestined perfection of its nature, 



CONSOLATION. 



167 



conformed to its true ideal, even as its type was cast- 
in the eternal thought of God from the first — bright, 
beautiful, glorious — each according to its own in- 
dividual style and fashion of brightness, beauty, glory, 
as every true work of God is and must be. It was 
thus that the Apostle, in his own grand way, solved the 
difficulty : " Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not 
quickened, except it die : and that which thou sowest, 
thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare 
grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain : 
But God giveth it a body as it hath pleased Him ; and 
to every seed his own body. . . So also is the 
resurrection of the dead. It is sown in corruption; it 
is raised in incorruption : it is sown in dishonour; it is 
raised in glory : it is sown in weakness ; it is raised in 
power: it is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiri- 
tual body. . . So when this corruptible shall have 
have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have 
put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the 
saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in 
victory." (1 Cor. xv. 36-54.) 

Here, then, we must pause. With this glimpse of 
the glory to be revealed, grand, but undefined, we must 
rest satisfied. Other questions manifold, and to the 
thoughtful spirit of deepest interest, we might ask, but 
cannot answer. What precisely shall be the new con- 
ditions, capacities, powers of our resurrection life ? In 
what respects shall it be the same, and in what unlike 
our present earthly state I What new avenues of 
knowledge shall we possess, what new organs of percep- 



168 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



tion, what new spheres of activity, and springs of enjoy- 
ment? Shall there be music, poetry, art, science, deep- 
ening research, and advancing knowledge of the works 
and ways of God, in heaven, even as here? Where 
shall the final seat of the blessed be 1 or shall they be 
confined, as now, to any exclusive spot — to any one 
single orb in the immensity of God's universe; or shall 
they not rather roam at large through all its wide do- 
mains, tread free and unrestrained through all the 
streets of the illimitable city of God 1 Shall we still, 
then as now, only scan from afar, the course of the 
planetary orbs, and the twinkle of the distant Pleiades, 
or shall we be permitted to visit them, and know all 
about them, and be at home in them, as in so many 
chambers of the one Father's house? In what form 
or stage of their development shall the bodies of the 
blessed rise — as in youth, or in manhood, or in ripe 
majestic age % Shall the child of this world be still a 
child in heaven ; or expand all at once in that won- 
drous transfiguration moment, into the fulness of its 
stature and perfection of its powers? and shall the old 
man be still an old man for ever; or shall he not 
rather, by that great regenerative baptism, be brought 
back to all the freshness and strength of his manly 
prime ? Shall we, in short, appear then, just as we 
were when death took us ; and not rather as we were 
or might have been, at our best? Shall the great 
Architect of that new creation realize the true and 
perfect ideal of the life of His saints; or the restora- 
tion only, though in a glorified state, of their actual 



CONSOLATION. 



169 



form here below? We cannot tell. We know not 
what we shall be. Enough, that God knoweth, and 
that He planneth and doeth all things well. Enough, 
that however high our conceptions of the unseen world, 
and sublime our aspirations in regard to it, it will still 
be something higher and grander far than we dream; 
for "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
entered into the heart of man, the things which God 
hath prepared for them that love Him." Enough, 
that there shall be a new heaven, and a new earth, 
and that we shall be made perfectly meet to possess 
and to enjoy it. Enough, and above all, that Christ 
shall be there, and that "when He shall appear, we 
shall be like Him ; for we shall see Him as He is." 



DIVINE BENEFICENCE IN THE DEATH OF 
CHILDREN. 

Eev. Thomas Bixxey, Loxdox. 

In reply to a note addressed to Mr Binney, requesting 
permission to re-insert the following piece from his 
work: "Is it possible to Make the Best of Both 
Worlds?" — the distinguished author cordially accedes 
to the request, and kindly sends a copy of the article 
which he has himself recently reprinted as a tract. 
We quote his Prefatory Note : — 

" I have been induced to put the following extract 
into the form of a tract for easy distribution, from the 
circumstance that it has been made the means of 

M 



170 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



relief and light to some sorrowing hearts, oppressed 
by the darkness and mystery in which the death of 
infants, little children, and young persons, or those in 
the prime and beauty of a fully-developed but yet 
unlived life, seemed to them to be specially involved. 

" We all know that the first, best, and only sufficient 
solace under a great sorrow must come direct from 
God, and be connected with the exercise of religious 
faith. — faith properly so called, simple, unreasoning 
trusty the trust of a child, asking no questions, having 
no difficulties, and satisfied with quietly accepting the 
divine will. After the first stage of suffering is passed, 
and the mind begins to act as well as the heart, the 
consideration of the secondary law, briefly illustrated in 
these few paragraphs, may, to some at least, be the 
source of a secondary consolation. It is quite possible 
for the Reason to act as a handmaid to Faith. This 
cannot but be the case, if the understanding perceives, 
that a certain law, benevolent in its design and object, 
involves suffering to the individual as a necessary 
means of securing the general good, — that of the 
sufferers themselves included. 

" Some are startled at being told that a child is not 
born in vain that merely breathes and dies. It seems 
to them as if there was nothing but mysterious waste 
and loss ! And yet it is a manifest truth, that it is 
quite worth being born just to die ! A great work — 
enough for a life — has been accomplished by what 
seems to many a c wonderfully made' and 6 curiously 
wrought } introduction to nothing." 



CONSOLATION. 



171 



I am fond of children. I think them the poetry of 
the world, — the fresh flowers of our hearths and homes • 
little conjurers, with their " natural magic," evoking 
by their spells what delights and enriches ail ranks, 
and equalizes the different classes of society. Often as 
they bring with them anxieties and cares, and live to 
occasion sorrow and grief, we should get on very 
badly without them. Only think— if there was never 
anything anywhere to be seen, but great, grown-up 
men and women ! How we should long for the sight 
of a little child ! Every infant comes into the world 
like a delegated prophet, the harbinger and herald of 
good tidings, whose office it is, "to turn the hearts of 
the fathers to the children," and to draw the " disobedi- 
ent to the wisdom of the just." A child softens and 
purines the heart, warming and melting it by its 
gentle presence ; it enriches the soul by new feelings, 
and awakens within it what is favourable to virtue. 
It is a beam of light, a fountain of love, a teacher whose 
lessons few can resist. Infants recall us from much 
that engenders and encourages selfishness, that freezes 
the affections, roughens the manners, indurates the 
heart ; — they brighten the home, deepen love, invigor- 
ate exertion, infuse courage, and vivify and sustain the 
charities of life. It would be a terrible world, I do 
think, if it was not embellished by little children ; but 
it would be a far more terrible one if little children 
did not die ! Many, I dare say, would be shocked by 
this assertion. It may be true, however, nevertheless. 
I am quite aware that death is in itself a very 



172 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



fearful tiling ; and that premature death is thought to 
be "mysterious," — something to be submitted to, as 
incapable of being reconciled with the idea of presiding 
wisdom and love, — to be mourned over as an unmixed 
evil, expressive only of the wrath of God and the 
misery of man ! Xow I quite hold that death is 
punitive. I believe it to be the consequence and the 
proof of the apostasy. I take it to be the mode of 
departure from earth which ivas introduced by sin, — 
painful, appalling, dark, — instead of that bright and 
glorious translation which would probably have awaited 
successful virtue. You will please to observe, that, as 
no world of limited extent could have continued the 
fixed dwelling-place of immortals, whose numbers were 
perpetually receiving augmentation, — and as the prim- 
ary law of all intelligence would seem to be that of 
progress and advancement, — the probability is, that 
man was never meant for this world only ; departure 
from it would be the law of his creation; but, on the 
alternative of his retaining his loyalty to God, that 
departure would have occurred after the full develop- 
ment of his nature here had fitted him for a rise in the 
scale of being, and it would have come in the form of 
reward and honour, perhaps with visible and public 
splendour, — the joyous congratulations of those left 
on earth mingling with the welcome, the symphonies 
and the songs of those superior spirits, to whose 
higher sphere the individual ascended. Sin, however, 
reversed all this. Instead of it, Humanity had to 
" depart hence" by returning to the dust; to go down 



CONSOLATION. 



173 



into the dark valley, and to pass thus towards the 
awful future, — the vast unknown ! 

Death, then, simply considered, having become the 
law by which man's residence here was to terminate ; 
and Humanity having become what entirely changed 
its character and circumstances, — giving a new impor- 
tance to the relationships of life, and impressing 
uncertainty, to say the least, on the future beyond it ; 
this being the case, to render life itself tolerable to man, 
it was necessary that the fixed general law should be 
softened and modified by two others. That is to say, 
it was necessary that death should so occur, as not to 
be of the nature of a distinct, positive, and public 
revelation of the precise future into which each individual 
passed ; and, that men should live utterly uncertain as 
to when they were to die. The punitive character of 
the original law being admitted, anything that would 
modify it in these two respects, would be of the nature 
of benevolent relief. This relief is accorded to us. The 
first is provided for by death happening alike to all; — 
and the second by its occurring at all ages. Whatever 
the character of individuals may be, however possible 
it is for any to acquire a fitness for a higher sphere, 
(and that, as we believe, is pre-eminently possible now 
through Christ) — still, all die, and, as a general rule, 
under the like circumstances of pain and suffering, and 
very generally, too, with similar feelings to themselves 
and to survivors. There is not such a difference 
between the death-beds of the religious and the worldly, 
except in particular cases, as some may suppose ; and 



174 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



there is always that ignorance in relation to the dead, 
which makes it possible to the living to hope. So far, 
therefore, as all the circumstantials of death are con- 
cerned, — the precursors and attendants and immediate 
results, disease, pain, dissolution, corruption, — which 
in all ages have constituted topics of pathetic discourse, 
or subjects for odes and songs of lamentation, — so far 
as these are concerned, they are the benevolent pro- 
ducts of a modifying law, with which God in His 
goodness has softened the rigour of the original inflic- 
tion. 

The same principle applies to premature death. All 
of you can see, that a general law, terminating life in 
all cases on a precise day, would be painful and 
intolerable ; it would poison life from first to last, and 
it might provoke and exasperate licence and lust. It 
is important, both for happiness and virtue, that no one 
should know when he is to die. This object, however, 
can only be secured by death happening at every 
moment throughout the entire period allotted to man . 
— extreme cases, even, such as death before leaving 
the spring-head and fountain of life, and death being 
delayed beyond all known or ordinary instances, — 
these are alike the working out of the same law. To 
secure, then, the proposed object, — to place humanity 
under the most gracious and benevolent constitution of 
things at all possible now, — in order that men might so 
live as to enjoy life, because happily ignorant respecting 
its termination, — on this account it is, that infants and 
children die ; that youths and maidens die ; that the 



CONSOLATION. 



175 



young man splendidly endowed, the young woman 
beautiful and accomplished, die ; the bride in her day 
of tremulous delight, the mother in the hour of her 
new joy, the strong man in the glory of his strength, 
— on this account they die. They die, — that all who 
live may live on under the blessed consciousness that 
they know not when they are to die. The whole race 
reaps the benefit of premature mortality. The glow 
and brightness of all life is connected with the graves 
and sepulchres of the young. Those who die early, or 
in the midst of their days, enjoy the advantage while 
they live. But the law would be infringed, and would 
be contradictory and unnatural, if parents were to be 
sure that no child could possibly die till it was a day 
old, or a month, or a year, or two years, or ten ; — to 
be thoroughly kind, the law must be carried out to its 
farthest extent, and come into play from the very first 
moment of possible vitality. Hence it is that infants 
die; — they die through the working of a most benevo- 
lent secondary law, brought in to break the rigour of 
the first'? And they die for the benefit of the race. 
Their lives are taken, for the sake of securing the 
happiness of the world. I had almost said,— and I 
may say it as speaking in a figure, — that a babe in its 
coffin may be supposed to look, to its weeping parents, 
like a little "dead Christ!" It has died vicariously 
— to secure a temporal advantage for the world, even 
as Christ died vicariously to secure for it a spiritual 
redemption. The one dies, that we may not know 
when we shall die ; the other died that we might know 



176 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



" that our Redeemer liveth." By the one fact we are 
enabled to endure life; by the other we are taught to 
die in hope, and to look forward to the resurrection of 
the dead. Let a halo of glory, then, seem to encircle 
that fair brow— the brow of that little babe, lying 
cold and dead there, on the lap of its mother! Poor 
mother! thy sorrow is great! Weep away;— let the 
hot tears gush out;— it is not the time to speak to thee 
now. But very soon thou wilt come to understand 
how, all thy life thou hast been reaping advantages 
that came to thee by the death of the infants of others; 
and thou wilt learn to acquiesce in what is really the 
result of one of the most benevolent of God's arrange- 
ments. The death of thy child, as a human being, is 
from sin ; but his death as a child is, because he is one 
of the chosen of the race, whose lot and mission are 
not to live to do and to enjoy, but simply to die,— hat 
to die for the benefit of the whole species, the world 
over!" * 



A MOTHER CONGRATULATED ON THE DEATH 
OF HER CHILD. 

The following letter occurs in "Selections from the 
Correspondence of R. E. H. Greyson, Esq.," edited by 
Professor Rogers, the eminent author of " The Eclipse 
of Faith:"— 1 

* Is it Possible to Make the Best of Both Worlds ? By T. Binnev 
London: James Nisbet & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



177 



London, 1839. 

My sweet Cousin, 

I have in vain tried to tell a lie for your sake, 
and say, — I condole with you. 

But it is impossible. How can I, with my deep 
convictions that your little floweret, and every other 
so fading, is but transplanted into the more congenial 
soil of Paradise, and shall there bloom and be fragrant 
for ever? How can I lament for one who has so 
cheaply become an "heir of immortality'?" who will 
never remember his native home of earth, nor the 
transient pang by which he was born into heaven! 
who will never even know that he has suffered except 
by being told so! Shall we lament that he has not 
shared our fatal privilege of an experience of guilt and 
sorrow'? Is this so precious that we can wish him 
partaker of it % My cousin, those who die in childhood 
are to be envied and felicitated, not deplored ; so soon, 
so happily have they escaped all that we must wish 
never to have known. 

" Innocent souls, thus set so early free 
From sin, and sorrow, and mortality," 

who can weep for them, as he thinks of the fearful 
hazards that all must run who have grown up to a 
personal acquaintance with sin and misery 1 ? 

An ancient Greek historian tells us it was a custom 
among a people of Scythia to celebrate the birth of a 
child with the same mournful solemnities with which 
the rest of the world celebrate a funeral. So intensely 



178 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



dark, yet so true (apart from the Gospel), was the view 
they took of what awaits man in life! The custom 
was fully justified, in my judgment, by a heathen view 
of things j and if it would be unseemly among us, it is 
only because Christianity has brought "life and im- 
mortality to light," and assures us that this world may 
become, for all of us, the vestibule of a better. 

" You are very philosophical," you will say : " you 
talk very fine — but you do not feel as you talk." 
Excuse me, my dear; I talk just as I have always 
felt ever since I came to a knowledge of Christianity 
and of human life ; and often — yes, often in the course 
of my own (and let the thought be consolation to you, 
for how do you know that your little one might not 
have tasted the same bitter experience ?) — often in the 
course of my life, as I have looked back and seen how 
much of it has been blurred and wasted ; what perils 
I have run of spiritual sMp wreck; what clouds of 
doubt still often descend and envelope the soul ; what 
agonies of sorrow I have passed through, — often have 
I cried, with Lands smiting each other and a broken 
voice, "Oh! that I had been thus privileged early to 
depart!" — But you cannot imagine a mother echoing 
such feelings in relation to her ow^n child ! Can you 
not 1 Come, let us see. 

There was once a mother, kneeling by the bedside of 
the little one whom she hourly expected to lose. With 
what eyes of passionate love had she watched every 
change in that beautiful face! How had her eyes 
pierced the heart of the physician, at his last visit, 



CONSOLATION. 



179 



when they glared rather than asked the question 
whether there yet was hope ! How had she wearied 
heaven with vows that if it would but grant — " Ah!" 
you say, " you can imagine all that without any diffi- 
culty at all." 

Imagine this, too. Overwearied with watching, she 
fell into a doze beside the couch of her infant, and she 
dreamt in a few moments (as we are wont to do) the 
seeming history of long years. She thought she heard 
a voice from heaven say to her, as to Hezekiah, " I 
have seen thy tears, I have heard thy prayers ; he 
shall live; and yourself shall have the roll of his 
presented to you." 

"Ah !" you say, "you can imagine all that, too." 

And straightway she thought she saw her sweet 
child in the bloom of health, innocent and playful as 
her fond heart could wish. Yet a little while, and she 
saw him in the flush of opening youth ; beautiful as 
ever, but beautiful as a young panther, from whose 
eyes wild flashes and fitful passion ever and anon 
gleamed; and she thought how beautiful he looked, 
even in those moods, for she was a mother. But she 
also thought how many tears and sorrows may be 
needful to temper or quench those fires ! 

And she seemed to follow him through a rapid suc- 
cession of scenes — now of troubled sunshine, now of 
deep gathering gloom. His sorrows were all of the 
common lot, but involved a sum of agony far greater 
than that which she would have felt from his early 
loss ; yes, greater even to her — and how much greater 



180 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



to him ! She saw him more than once wrestling with 
pangs more agonising than those which now threatened 
his infancy; she saw him involved in error, and with 
difficulty extricating himself; betrayed into youthful 
sins, and repenting with scalding tears ; she saw him 
half ruined by transient prosperity, and scourged into 
tardy wisdom only by long adversity; she saw him 
worn and haggard with care — his spirit crushed, and 
his early beauty all wan and blasted ; worse still, she 
saw him thrice stricken with that very shaft which she 
had so dreaded to feel but once, and mourned to think 
that her prayers had prevailed to prevent her own 
sorrows only to multiply his; worst of all, she saw 
him, as she thought, in a darkened chamber, kneeling 
beside a coffin in which Youth and Beauty slept their 
last sleep ; and, as it seemed, her own image stood 
beside him, and uttered unheeded love to a sorrow that 
"refused to be comforted;" and as she gazed on that 
face of stony despair, she seemed to hear a voice which 
said, " If thou wilt have thy floweret of earth unfold 
on earth, thou must not wonder at bleak winters and 
inclement skies. / would have transplanted it to a 
more genial clime; but thou wouldest not." And 
with a cry of terror she awoke. 

She turned to the sleeping figure before her, and, 
sobbing, hoped it was sleeping its last sleep. She 
listened for his breathing — she heard none ; she lifted 
the taper to his lips — the flame wavered not ; he had, 
indeed, passed away while she dreamed that he lived ; 
and she rose from her knees, — and was comforted. 



CONSOLATION". 181 

"Ah!" you will say — "These sorrows could never 
have been the lot of my sweet child!" It is hard to 
set one's logic against a mother's love; I can only 
remind you, my dear cousin, that it has been the lot 
of thousands, whose mothers, as their little ones crowed 
and laughed in their arms in childish happiness, would 
have sworn to the same impossibility. But for you, — 
you know what they could only believe ; — that it is an 
impossibility. Nay, I might hint at yet profounder 
consolation, if, indeed, there ever existed a mother who 
could fancy that, in the case of her own child, it could 
ever be needed. Yet facts sufficiently shew us, that 
what the dreaming mother saw, — errors retrieved, 
gins committed but repented of, and sorrows that 
taught wisdom, are not always seen, and that chil- 
dren may, in spite of all, persist in exploring the 
path of evil— "deeper and deeper still!" With the 
shadow of uncertainty whether it may not be so with 
any child, is there no consolation in thinking that 
even that shadow has passed away? For aught we 
know, many and many a mother may hereafter hear 
her lost darling say — "Sweet mother, I was taken 
from you for a little while, only that I might abide 
with you for ever ! " 

Ever yours affectionately, 

R. E. H. 

* Selections from the Correspondence of E. E. H. Greyson, Esq. 
Edited by the Author of the "Eclipse of Faith." London : Long- 
man, Green & Co. 



182 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



EDWARD IRVING' S HOME CIRCLE— 
THE FIRST LINK BROKEN. 

In the beginning of September, 1825 — says Mrs. 
Oliphant, the elegant writer of Irving' s very inter- 
esting Life — he went to Scotland to join his wife, who 
was then in expectation of the birth of her second 
child. But, with the cold autumn winds, trouble and 
fear came upon the anxious household. The baby, 
Edward, had rallied so much as to make them forget 
their former fears on his account ; but it was only a 
temporary relief. On the second day of October, a 
daughter was born ; and for ten days longer, in another 
room of the house, separated from the poor mother, 
who, for her other baby's sake, was not permitted ever 
again, in life, to behold her first-born, little Edward 
lingered out the troubled moments, and died slowly in 
his father's agonised sight. The new-born infant was 
baptized on Sunday, the 9th October, for a consolation 
to their hearts: and on the 11th, her brother died. 
Dr. Martin, of Kirkcaldy, writing to his father — the 
venerable old man who had baptized little Edward, his 
descendant of the fourth generation — describes how, 
sitting beside the little body, he could do nothing but 
kneel down and weep, till reminded of the words used 
by the child's father, "in a sense in which, probably, 
they have not often been applied, but the force of 
which, at the moment, was very striking, when he saw 
ail about him dissolved in tears, on viewing the dear 



CONSOLATION. 



183 



infant's cruel struggle, 6 Look not at the things which 

are seen, but at those which are unseen !'" "Edward 

and Isabella," he continues, "both bear the stroke, 
though sore, with wonderful resignation. . , Two 
nights ago, they resolved, in their conference and prayers 
concerning him, to surrender him wholly to God — to 
consider him as not their child, but God's. . . When 
her husband came down stairs to-day, he said, in reply 
to a question from her mother, c She is bearing it as 
well as one saint could wish to see another do.' — Bles- 
sed be the Holy Name ! . . I should have said, that 
when assembled to worship as a family, after ail was 
over, Mr. Irving, before I began to pray, requested 
leave to address us; and he addressed us, all and several, 
in the most affectionate and impressive manner. The 
Lord bless and fix his words! In testimony of his 
gratitude for the consolation afforded him and his 
wife, he has gone out to visit and comfort some of the 
afflicted around us." 

The manner in which Irving himself announced 
this first interruption of his family happiness, with an 
elevation and ecstasy of grief which I do not doubt 
will go to the hearts of all who have suffered similar 
anguish, as, indeed, the writer can scarcely transcribe 
it without tears, will be seen by the following letter, 
addressed to William Hamilton, and written on the 
day of death itself : — - 



184 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



4 'Kirkcaldy, 11th October, 1S25. 

Our Dearly-Beloved Friend, — The hand of the Lord 
hath touched my wife and me, and taken from us our well- 
beloved child, sweet Edward, who was dear to you also, as 
he was to all who knew him. But, before taking him, He 
gave unto us good comfort of the Holy Ghost, as He doth to 
all His faithful servants ; and we are comforted, verily we are 
comforted. Let the Lord be praised, who hath visited the 
lowly, and raised them up ! 

If you had been here yesterday and this day when our 
little babe was taken, you would have seen the stroke of death 
subdued by faith, and the strength of the grave overcome; 
for the Lord hath made His grace to be known unto us in the 
inward part. I feel that the Lord hath well done in that He 
hath afflicted me, and that by His grace I shall be a more 
faithful minister unto you, and unto all the flock committed 
to my charge. Now is my heart broken — now is its hardness 
melted; and my pride is humbled, and my strength is renewed. 
The good name of the Lord be praised! 

Our little Edward, dear friend, is gone the way of all the 
earth ; and his mother and I are sustained by the Prince and 
Saviour who hath abolished death and brought life and 
immortality to light. The affection which you bear to us, or 
did bear towards the dear child who is departed, we desire 
you will not spend in unavailing sorrow, but elevate it 
unto Him who hath sustained our souls, even the Lord our 
Saviour Jesus Christ ; and if you feel grief and trouble, oh I 
turn the edge of it against sin and Satan to destroy their 
works, for it is they who have made us to drink of this 
bitter cup. 

Communicate this to all our friends in the congregation 
and church, as much as may be, by the perusal of this letter, 
that they may know the grace of God manifested unto us; 
and oh ! William Hamilton, remember thyself, and tell them 



CONSOLATION. 



185 



all that they are dust, and that their children are as the 
flowers of the field. 

Nevertheless, God granting me a safe journey, I will 
preach at the Caledonian church on Sabbath the 23rd, though 
I am cut off from my purpose of visiting the churches by the 
way. The Lord be with you, and your brethren of the elder- 
ship, and all the church and congregation. — Your affectionate 
friend, 

Edward Irving." 

With such an ode and outburst of the highest strain 
of grief, brought so close to the gates of heaven, that 
the dazzled mourner, overpowered with the greatness 
of the anguish and the glory, sees the Lord within, 
and takes a comfort more pathetic than any lamenta- 
tion, was the child Edward buried. He was but fifteen 
months old ; but either from his natural loveliness, or 
from the subliming influence of his father's love and 
grief, seems to have left a memory behind him as of 
the very ideal and flower of infancy. By his father 
and mother the child was always held in pathetically 
thankful remembrance. " Little Edward, their fairest 
and their first," writes one of Mrs. Irving' s sisters, 
"never lost his place in their affections. Writing of 
one of her little ones, some years afterwards, my sister 
said, 6 1 have said all to you when I tell you that we 
think her very like our little Edward;'" and the 
same lady tells us of Irving' s answer to somebody 
who expressed the superficial and common wonder, so 
often heard, that helpless babies should grow up to be 
the leaders and guides of the world, in words similar 
to those which break from him in his Preface to Ben- 



186 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Ezra, " Whoso stuclietli as I have done, and reflecteth 
as I have sought to reflect, upon the first twelve months 
of a child ; whoso hath had such a child to look and 
reflect upon, as the Lord for fifteen months did bless 
me withal (whom I would not recall, if a wish could 
recall him, from the enjoyment and service of our dear 
Lord), will rather marvel how the growth of that 
wonderful creature, which put forth such a glorious 
bud of being, should come to be so cloaked by the 
flesh, cramped by the world, and cut short by Satan, 
as not to become a winged seraph; will rather wonder 
that such a puny, heartless, feeble thing as manhood 
should be the abortive fruit of the rich bud of childhood, 
than think that childhood is an imperfect promise and 
opening of the future man. And therefore it is that I 
grudged not our noble, lovely child, but rather do 
delight that such a seed should blossom and bear in 
the kindly and kindred Paradise of my God. And 
why should not I speak of thee, my Edward! seeing it 
was in the season of thy sickness and death the Lord 
did reveal in me the knowledge and hope and desire of 
His Son from heaven J Glorious exchange ! He took 
my son to His own more fatherly bosom, and revealed 
in my bosom the sure expectation and faith of His 
own eternal Son ! Dear season of my life ! ever to be 
remembered, when I knew the sweetness and fruitful 
ness of such joy and sorrow." 

I cannot doubt that the record of this infant' < 
death, and the traces it leaves upon the life and word? 
of his sorrowful but rejoicing father, will endear tht 



CONSOLATION. 



187 



great orator to many sorrowful hearts. So far as I 
can perceive, no other event of his life penetrated so 
profoundly the depths of his spirit. 

The following is an extract from a letter to his wife, 
when on his solitary journey homeward, over the moors, 
on foot, dated Annan, 18th October, 1825 : — 

Here I waded the Yarrow at the foot of the loch, 
under the crescent moon, where, finding a convenient 
rock beneath some overhanging branches which, moaned 
and sighed in the breeze, I sat me down, while the 
wind, sweeping, brought the waters of the loch to my 
feet ; and I paid my devotions to the Lord in His own 
ample and magnificent temple ; and sweet meditations 
were afforded me of thee, our babe, and our departed 
boy. My soul was filled with sweetness. " I did not 
ask for a sign," as Oolonel Blackadder says ; but when 
I looked up to the moon, as I came out from the 
ecclesia of the rock, she looked as never a moon had 
looked before in my eye,- — as if she had been washed 
in dew, which, speedily clearing off, she looked so 
bright and beautiful ; and, on the summit of the oppo- 
site hill, a little bright star gleamed upon me, like the 
bright, bright eye of our darling. O, how I wished 
you had been with me to partake the sweet solacement 
of that moment ! 

Writing again to his wife, on October 25th, from 
London, he observes: — 

Truly I feel very lonely to ascend those stairs, and 
lie down upon my lonely bed. But the Lord filled me 
with some strong consolations when I thought that a 



188 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



spirit calling me father, and thee mother, might now 
be ministering at His throne. I do not remember ever 
being so uplifted in soul. 

In another letter to Mrs. Irving, on the 7th Nov., 
he says : — 

And, as you yourself observed, has He not over 
again wedded us, far more closely than in any joy, by 
our late tribulation, and the burial of our lovely 
Edward, our holy first-born, who gave up the ghost in 
order to make his father and mother one, and expiate 
the discords and divisions of their souls 1 Dear spirit 1 
thou dearest spirit which doth tenant heaven, this is 
the mystery of thy burial on the wedding-day of thy 
parents, to make them for ever one. Oh, and thou 
shalt be sanctified, Ood blessing, by such a concord 
and harmony of soul as hath not often blessed the 
earth since Eden was forfeited by sin. My wife, this 
is not poetry, this is not imagination which I write : 
it is truth, rely upon it, it is truth that lovely Edward 
hath been the sweet offering of peace between us for 
ever • and so, when we meet in heaven, he shall be as 
the priest who joined us, — the child of months being 
one hundred years old. 

In a letter written on the evening of Saturday, the 
12th of November, he refers in the following terms 
to his two children — the one on earth, the other in 
heaven : — ■ 

I have been busy preparing my discourses. Let me 
not forget that this day, which I have improved to 
others, I ought of all to improve the most carefully to 



CONSOLATION. 



189 



Edward's mother. Every twelfth day of the month, 
my loving a,nd beloved wife, let it be your first thought 
that your babe is mortal, and that the father of your 
babe is mortal, and that you yourself are mortal ! And 
every twelfth day of the month, my loving and beloved 
wife, let it be your last thought that your babe is 
mortal, and that the father of your babe is mortal, 
and that you yourself are mortal ! Do this that you 
may swallow up our mortality in the glorious faith of 
our immortality in the heavens. Farewell, my wife. 
Dwell for ever with the Lord, my sister saint in 
Christ ; dwell for ever with the Lord, my tender babe, 
and be blessed of Him, as He was wont to bless such 
as thee ! 

On the 6th of J uly, 1830, this good man had to mourn 
over the death of his " beloved Samuel." It was this 
child, I think — says Mrs. Oliphant — who died so late 
in the week as to leave no time for the afflicted father 
to find a substitute for his Sunday duties. He preached 
in his own church the day after; taking for his text 
the words of David — " I shall go to him, but he shall 
not return to me." Persons who were present have 
described to me, almost with a sob of recollection, the 
heart-breaking pathos and solemnity of this service; 
and no one can have read his letters at the time of his 
first child's death, without being able to realise in some 
degree the outburst of ineffable anguish and rejoicing 
which must have been wrung from him by such a 
necessity. They say he went tearless and fasting 
through that dark Sabbath; and coming in from his 



190 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



pulpit, went straight to the little coffin, and, flinging 
himself down by it, gave way to the agony of a strong 
man's grief— grief which was half or wholly prayer 

an outcry to the one great Confidant of all his 

troubles 1"* 



THE SHUN AMMITE AND HER SON. 

Esv. Dr. John Butjce, Newmilns, Ayrshire. 

The esteemed writer to whom we are indebted for the 
following paper, has reached his seventy-fifth year. 
He was ordained at Newmilns, upwards of fifty 
years ago, where he is still able, in the name of his 
Divine Master, "to preach good tidings unto the 
meek, to bind up the broken-hearted, and comfort all 
that mourn:" — 

For those who have lost dear children, there is an 
exceedingly interesting and touching story in the Book 
of Kings, that must have soothed the spirit of many a 

* The Life of Edward Irving, Minister of the National Scotch 
Church, London. Illustrated by his Journals and Correspondence- 
By Mrs. Oliphant. London: Hurst & Blackett. 1862.— [This 
gifted son of genius was born at Annan, August 4, 1792, and died 
at Glasgow, on the 7th December, 1834, aged forty-two years. 
Amongst the last words uttered by the sanctified and eloquent 
lips of Edward Irving were these,—" If I die, I die unto the Lord, 
Amen!" and the emancipated spirit winged its way to join that 
countless multitude before the throne, " who came out of great 
tribulation." "They buried him," says Mrs. Oliphant, his gene- 
rous and enthusiastic biographer, "in the crypt of Glasgow 
Cathedral, like his Master, in the grave of a stranger/'] 



CONSOLATION. 



191 



parent in days that are past, and that is still fraught 
with abundant consolation. In Shunem, a city of the 
tribe of Issachar, there lived a woman of high rank, 
who had tasted that the Lord is gracious ; who mani- 
fested her regard for the God of Israel by kind and 
courteous attention to His prophet, and who had signal 
experience of the truth of the promise, "He that 
receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet, shall 
receive a prophet's reward." This Shunammite, as we 
are told, had an only child, who was endeared to her 
by very many considerations, but was suddenly and 
unexpectedly removed by death. In her deep distress 
she had recourse to Elisha, and made known to him 
her grief, and obtained from him the relief that she 
required. 

The story suggests two or three thoughts that may 
be useful to bereaved parents. 

1. The Shunammite, though a godly person, was not 
exempted from family bereavement — She had one in 
whom her affections centred, and who was dear to her, 
even as her own soul. To him she clung, as one of 
the chief sources of her enjoyment, and as one whose 
life seemed indispensable to her own. Yet, in accord 
ance with the sovereign purpose of God, she was called 
to part with this child. In the morning he is with 
her, and she delights to look on his opening charms, 
and to indulge in fond anticipations as to the future. 
At noon, he is struck down by the hand of death, and 
is no longer hers. " When the child was grown, it 
fell on a day, that he went out to his father to the 



192 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

reapers. And lie said unto his father, My head, my 
head ! And he said to a lad, Carry him to his mother. 
And when he had taken him, and brought him to his 
mother, he sat on her knees till noon, and then died." 

A visitation, like that experienced by the Shunam- 
mite, is not -uncommon with the people of God. The 
grim messenger enters their dwelling, and commits his 
ravages on those whom they love. Darkness forth- 
with covers their tabernacle, and the cheerful house- 
hold hum is hushed. This is the law of nature, acting 
in obedience to the appointment of God: — "By one 
man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and 
so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned." 
And that we may never want an impressive memorial 
of the evil of sin, and the enormity of the trespass of 
our first father, when he rebelled against the God who 
made him, we see " death reigning even over those who 
have not sinned after the similitude of Adam's trans- 
gression." Often are the words of Scripture very 
strikingly illustrated — " Man that is born of a woman 
is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth 
like a flower, and is cut down : he fleeth also as a 
shadow, and continueth not." And when parents see 
their flowers blighted, and cut clown, it well becomes 
them to think of sin, as that which "brought death 
into the world, and all our woe." But blessed be God 
that, when they think of death through the first man, 
they may think of life through the second man, Christ 
J esus. Nay, the former may be viewed as the security 
fcr the latter — death, if we may speak so, as the 



CONSOLATION. 



193 



security for life; for if, in the government of a just and 
beneficent Being, covenant representation has issued 
in death, much more in the government of such a 
Being will it issue in life — even life eternal. 

2. The Shunammite, though a pious woman, was deeply 
grieved by the loss of her child. — How does this appear % 
Not from anything said in the passage about weeping, 
or wailing, or any of the ordinary expressions of 
sorrow. But when Elisha saw her, he saw grief 
depicted on her countenance; and when he saw Gehazi 
annoyed with her importunity, his language was, " Let 
her alone; for her soul is vexed within her." The lan- 
guage is descriptive of deep grief — such grief as is 
elsewhere brought into view, when the prophet would 
give us some idea of a spirit wounded by the arrow of 
conviction — "They shall look upon me whom they 
have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one 
mourneth for his only son, and shall be in bitterness 
for him, as one that is in bitterness for his first-born." 
And why should not Christians grieve for the loss of 
their dear children ? Their feelings are not blunted, 
but perhaps rendered keener through the influence of 
religion. Every bereavement to which they are sub- 
jected, every privation to which they are exposed, tends, 
not the less because of religion, to make them heave 
the sigh of sorrow, or drop the tear that bespeaks the 
anguish of their heart. It is only when grief becomes 
immoderate, or when mourning is accompanied by 
murmuring, that it is offensive to Gocl. If afflictive 
dispensations did not cause us to grieve, they would 



194 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



not be trials, nor would they accomplish the gracious 
end intended. They would no longer be a means of 
trying our faith, and patience, and resignation ; of 
strengthening in us these graces; of weaning our affec- 
tions from the things of time, and of fixing them more 
steadily on unseen realities. In short, it is chieny 
because bereavements awaken sorrow, that they lead 
us to see our need of God, and to seek for satisfaction 
from higher sources than the world with all its tran- 
sient joys. 

3. The Shunammite, amidst her affliction, betook herself 
to God. — Elisha was not only a man of God, but a 
prophet signally attested by J ehovah. It may be said, 
therefore, in a certain sense, that he was the medium 
of intercourse between God and men. To him, accor- 
dingly, the Shunammite came in this hour of need; to 
him she unbosomed all her sorrow; and to him she 
looked for the consolation which she required. IsTo 
sooner was her young one stretched out in death, than 
" she called unto her husband, and said, Send me, I 
pray thee, one of the young men, and one of the asses, 
that I may run to the man of God, and come again." 
Whether she expected that the child would be restored 
to life by the prophet, we are not expressly informed. 
But from the remarkable words in which she addressed 
him, this may be inferred : " Did I desire a son of 
my Lord ? did I not say, Do not deceive me." The 
language intimates that if her son were removed from 
her at this early age, her hopes would be disap- 
pointed, and the promise made to her would not be 



CONSOLATION. 



195 



fulfilled. In short, the restoration of the child seemed 
needful to the realization of the promise. 

Now the Christian parent needs scarcely to be 
reminded that it is to God that he should go in the 
season of bereavement. " He knows our frame." He 
sympathizes with us in our sufferings. He pours the 
balm of consolation into our wounded spirit. He tells 
us that He does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the 
children of men ; that He has a gracious design in all 
that He measures out to us, and that this will be made 
apparent in the end. He reminds us of the blessed 
effect of the dispensation, to the young one who is the 
immediate subject of it; and of its bearings also on those 
who survive. He assures us that though the affliction 
"be not joyous, but grievous, it yieldeth the peaceable 
fruit of righteousness unto them who are exercised 
thereby." And thus we rest assured that all will be 
well with us, and that, on a retrospect of all that has 
passed over lis, we shall be able to say, in the light of 
eternity, "He led us forth by the right way, that we 
might go to a city of habitation." 

4. The Shunammite acquiesced in the bereaving dispen- 
sation, 'painful though it teas. "When Gehazi met her, 
and accosted her in these courteous terms, " Is it well 
with thee? is it well with thy husband? is it well 
with the child] she answered, It is well." True, her 
beloved child had been removed from her; for after a 
short, but severe, conflict with trouble, he had closed 
his eyes in death. And, as a consequence of this, her 
tender heart was wrung with anguish, and her soul was 



196 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



vexed within her. But still she could say, "It is well." 
She saw the hand of her God and Father in the trying 
dispensation, and, like Job, she bowed with holy submis- 
sion, knowing that all was "truth and mercy sure." 

And surely it should not require many words to per- 
suade bereaved Christian parents, that with their chil- 
dren also "it is well." They may think on the object 
of their tenderest affection as for ever withdrawn from 
them, and laid in the dreary, desolating grave. The 
blank produced in their family circle, with its mournful 
associations, may ever and anon obtrude itself on their 
view. And when they reflect on the clays when the 
candle of the Lord shone upon them, and when all was 
cheerful in the midst of their dwellings, they may be 
overpowered and overwhelmed, and for a time may 
even "refuse to be comforted." But, by-and-by, the 
tumult of the soul is allayed; by-and-by the precious 
promises are attended to; by-and-by the Spirit, with its 
consoling influences, gets access to the mind, and 
then the bereaved and sorrowing parent can look at 
the bright side of the dispensation, and can say. It is 
well. Musing on God's ways toward him, he may be 
supposed to indulge in such thoughts as these — He was 
indeed a pleasant child that was removed from me, and 
one on whom my heart was set. I had fondly hoped 
to see him grow in strength and beauty, and to be use- 
fully and honourably active in life. I had anticipated 
the period when he should be my companion, my 
counsellor, my comforter, my pride. But God in His 
sovereignty has ordered it otherwise: and shall I 



CONSOLATION. 



197 



complain'? Shall I complain because, in a different 
way from that which my own imaginings had pictured, 
my highest wish for my child is fulfilled ] Shall I 
complain because the warfare has been so short, and 
the victory so easily and speedily won? — because the 
lamb has been so soon gathered into the fold, and 
sheltered from the rough and ruthless blast 0 — because 
the little voyager on life's wide ocean has escaped so 
completely the perils of life, and has entered so soon 
the peaceful haven? — because the immortal spirit, the 
heir of heaven, lingered for so short a time in this land 
of darkness, and passed so soon into the realms of light ? 
Shall I complain for these and similar reasons 1 Verily, 
No. Fond nature, cease thy unwarrantable murmuring. 
Look to thy child in his glorified state ; " for of such is 
the kingdom of heaven." Think of him as raised above 
all sorrow, and suffering, and imperfection, and mingling 
with the innumerable company of the redeemed. 

"Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear, 

That mourns thine exit from a world like this : 
Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here, 
And stay'd thy progress to the realms of bliss." 



THE EARLY REMOVAL OF CHILDREN A 
PROOF OF DIVINE GOODNESS. 

Rev. George C. Huttox, Paisley. 

Theke is a sinless grief. Jesus Himself could weep. 
The heart, no less than the flesh, must bleed when 



198 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



wounded, and some of its softest tendrils are torn when 
little ones are plucked away. Still, this most amiable 
sorrow, the sorrow of Rachel weeping for her children, 
may reach excess. It is possible to nurse it in morbid 
luxury or desperateness of spirit, to the stoppage of ail 
duty. The moan may swell into the murmur, and the 
smarting soul, Jonah-like, think it well to be angry. 
Yet why should a living man complain ? There is 
worse grief in Bochim. "I would rather," said a grey- 
haired sire, following his son of shame, "have carried 
him to the grave." To have buried Hophni and 
Phinehas when simple babes, would have cost less 
anguish to Eli, than to hear of their death at Aphek 
in the "blossom of their sins." Bitter as it was for 
David to lose the child of Bathsheba, it was bitterer 
far to part with evil Absalom. It is told of an artist 
that, once engaged on a painting of Innocence, he took 
for his model the face of a lovely child. Long after- 
wards, being occupied on a companion picture of Guilt, 
he visited the dungeon of a noted felon in search of 
artistic hints, only to find his cherub-model of other 
years transformed into that dark-visaged convict. So 
it is : the cradle hides many unknown developments. 
Herod once smiled on the breast; Cain once played at 
the knees of Eve. If it could be said of some, Better 
they had not been born : it might be thought of others, 
Better they had early died. 

Yes, mourning parent — Let God alone. His time 
and ways are ever best. Even were your offspring to 
be all Samuels and Timothys in riper life, would it 



CONSOLATION. 



199 



lessen the pang to part with them then 1 Did it so 
with J acob mourning J oseph, or the woman of Nain 
lamenting her manly son 1 Or if you shrink when the 
pruning knife removes the buds and blossoms, would 
you prefer that it should be applied to your faithful 
spouse, the earthly stem which is better than " ten 
sons ? " Say not, " All these things are against me." 
Only " wait patiently for the Lord." " They shall not 
be ashamed that wait for Him." Your soul shall 
yet revive as disconsolate Jacob's did, when he saw 
Joseph's glory in Egypt. This is the furnace ordeal, 
and when God hath " tried" you, you shall "come 
forth as gold." "All things work together for good 
to them that love Him." The Lord hath but sent the 
young ones on before, that you may more sweetly 
follow. Against you ! No. But deem not the ques- 
tion strange — Is there none to be thought of except 
yourself ? Is the Great Father not entitled to recall 
His own, or has He only your feelings to consider 1 
What of the interests of the child — His, still more 
than yours ? Look that there be not some touch of self 
in your too eager love. When you stooped over the 
couch of the little sufferer, you felt you could give a 
world to purchase only an hour of ease for the fevered 
frame. In the time of health you watched the budding 
morals of your mirthful boy and your gentle girl; you 
kept far from their ears the echo of impiety, and from 
their eyes the spectacle of pollution; you toiled and 
prayed for their weal and happiness. And do you 
now weep that your warmest wishes have been far 



200 



WOKDS OF COMFORT. 



exceeded'? Would you, if you could, bring hack the 
young immortals from the land where the inhabitant 
shall never say, I am sick, to this scene of aches and 
pangs; from the purity of Paradise to the infections of 
the earth ; from the clime of immortality and " God's 
holy mountain," where "nothing shall hurt or destroy," 
to the howling wilderness, the Vanity-fair of tempta- 
tions; and the valley of the shadow of death % " If ye 
loved me," said Jesus to His sorrowing followers, " ye 
would rejoice, because I said I go unto the Father." 
In almost similar terms, might these young spirits 
correct your excessive sorrow. These precious ones 
have only now gone home. They were never so blessed 
in your embrace, as now in the hands of the Good 
Shepherd. You loved to see their happiness here ? 
and sometimes feared to die lest they should fare ill 
in a cold world. That ground of anxiety is now re- 
moved, and you may die assured that they want no good 
thing. Their Guardian is He who " gathers the lambs 
with His arm, and carrieth them in His bosom." Too 
natural was the mistake of Martha and Mary, " Lord 
if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." Ear 
otherwise does Jesus show His love; even by making 
death gain. < 4 It is appointed unto men once to die." 
Some must precede, child or parent; and first started 
is first arrived, Grudge not the children their happy 
start. Think rather that they shall be waiting for you 
at the pearly gates; and that if their removal has 
saddened the hearth, it has gladdened the skies, adding 
an element to the bliss of heaven, and providing for 



CONSOLATION. 



201 



you a store of parental enjoyments that shall never 
fail, in the society of your early lost. " For our light 
affliction, which is but for a moment, worketk for us a 
far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 



BEREAVED PARENTS COMFORTED. 

Rev. Wm. M. Taylou, M.A., Liverpool. 

Bereaved parents, do not sorrow murmuringly and 
without hope when your children are taken from you 
in death, for in such a dispensation Jesus is only 
saying to you in another form what He said to His 
disciples long ago, " Suffer the little children to come 
unto me, and forbid them not : for of such is the king- 
dom of God." Their death is but their going to Him, 
for I have no doubt whatever of the salvation of 
infants. It is not indeed a doctrine distinctly revealed; 
but it may, I think, be inferred from many passages of 
Scripture, and from the whole character of the gospel 
itself. The very words which I have quoted, even if 
there were no others, warrant the conclusion that 
infants are received into that kingdom of God which 
stretches into eternity; and if this be so, wherefore 
should you be like Rachel, "refusing to be comforted?" 

Consider to whom they have gone. They have been 
taken to the arms of Jesus, and to the bright glory 
of the heavenly state. Nothing now can mar their 
felicity, or dim the lustre of their joy, or damp the 
ardour of their song; and could they speak to you from 

o 



202 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



their abode of bliss, they would say to you, weep not 
for us, but weep for yourselves, that you are not here 
to share our happiness. 

Consider from what they have been taken. They 
have been removed from earth, with its pains and 
privations, its sufferings and sorrows. Look back upon 
your own chequered histories, and tell me if you can 
contemplate without a feeling of grief, the idea of your 
children passing through such trials as those which 
have met you in the world ? Would you wish that 
their hearts should be wrung as yours have been, by 
the harshness of an unfeeling world, or by the ingrati- 
tude of those whom you have served % Nay, in view 
of the agony of this very bereavement, would you wish 
that a similar sorrow should be theirs i And yet does 
not their continuance in the world involve in it the 
endurance of all these things ; and ought it not there- 
fore to be a matter of thankfulness that they have 
reached heaven without having passed through the full 
bitterness of earth % Above all, can you contemplate 
the spiritual dangers with which the world is environed, 
and not feel grateful that your little ones are now 
eternally safe from them % Think of the temptations 
that have beset you, and of the dreadful battles which 
you fought with them, and how near you were to being 
conquered by them, and let me ask if in this view you 
can feel otherwise than glad that they have gained the 
victory without the perils and hardships of the fight % 
Perhaps had they been exposed to these dangers they 
would have fallen before them; perhaps had they lived 



CONSOLATION. 



203 



they would have grown up only to fill your hearts with 
sadness, and to " bring your grey hairs with sorrow to 
the grave;" but all this is now impossible, for they are 
safe with Jesus. It is hard to part with your children ; 
indeed there can be no severer bereavement, unless it 
be the death of a husband or a wife. But, oh ! remem- 
ber the death of your child is not the heaviest calamity 
that could befall you, for "a living cross is heavier 
than a dead one." 

Consider again for what they are taken. Perhaps 
you have been wandering away from Christ, and He 
has taken this way to bring you back. Perhaps you 
have been centring your heart too much on the 
earthly object, and He has taken it to Himself, that 
your treasure may be still in Him. Perhaps you have 
never known Him, and He has taken this means of 
introducing Himself to you, coming to you as He did to 
His followers of old, over the very waves with which 
you are struggling, and saying, "It is I, be not afraid." 
Perhaps some other member of your family was to be 
led through this affliction to the Lord, and thus one 
little one was taken from you for a season, that another 
might abide with you for ever. And if this should be 
so, can you repine % 

Consider, finally, how this bereavement will appear 
when you come to lie upon your death-bed. I have 
seen mothers and fathers not a few at that solemn 
hour, bat never one have I heard expressing anxiety 
for the little children who have gone before. The 
great concern, then, after their own eternal safety, has 



204 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



always been for those they were leaving behind. The 
Lord, thus, is afflicting thee now, that thy sorrow may 
be mitigated at the last. Think of all these things, 
mourning parents, and then your bereavement will 
seem to be, as it in reality is, a token of love and not 
of anger. 

"O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 
The Reaper came that day ; 
'Twas an angel visited the green earth, 
And took the flowers away.'' 



MYSTERY IN THE DEATH OF THE LAMBS 
OF CHRIST'S FLOCK. 

Rev. John Kay, Castle-Douglas. 

I feel myself surrounded by mystery. Life, with, its 
everchanging phases, is to me a mystery. Men, in 
their motives and plans, in their purposes and in their 
actions, present to me, oftentimes, problems which I 
cannot solve. But life yields as a mystery to death. 
I do not wonder that the heathen world, on which, the 
light of the gospel bad not dawned, represented death 
as the realm of night and darkness, when even inspired 
writers so speak of it. There is no aspect of death, so 
thoroughly mysterious to me as the removal of little 
children — of those, especially, who are taken away 
from us in infancy. We school our minds, at length, 
into the belief (and it is well we should do so) that "the 
less of earth, the more of heaven — that the removal of 
the child is designed by Him who holds the hearts of 



CONSOLATION. 



205 



all men in His hand, to arrest the godless parent, or to 
draw still closer the bonds of love that subsist between 
some men on earth and Himself — that our little children 
are better with Him than they could ever have been 
with us." I know how kindly meant all such efforts 
at comforting are, but the stricken heart, bleeding at 
every pore, says, in its innermost recesses, " Physicians, 
of no value are ye all!" True! through the goodness 
of God, the tears that now from the streaming eyes, 
when lighted up by the Sun of Eighteousness, make, 
over against the dark background of bereavement, a 
rainbow in sight like unto an emerald, but often and 
again the tried spirit says, " What can God mean by 
all this ?" 

I shall not seek to be the interpreter of other men's 
thoughts ; let me simply tell my own, after I had seen 
once and again and again and a fourth time snatched, 
as old Erskine says, "from womb and breast," the 
children of many hopes and many prayers. Ethan, 
the Ezrahite, spoke out what many only think, when he 
put the question, " Wherefore hast thou made all men 
in vain?" Is it not a mystery that God should give 
life, and should so soon recall it'? that the stream 
which had flowed only for a clay or two should be so 
soon dried, or, rather, be turned back again to the 
fountain of life from which it sprang 1 If the end of all 
creation be the advancing of God's glory, how do you 
account for the fact that your children and mine are 
often cut down ere the clawn has expanded into the 
clear light of day 2 The grave, dark and silent, has no 



206 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



reply. Jesus, the Light-bearer, sends through the 
clouds straggling beams of His glory, which fall upon 
almost every other part of the tomb save this. The 
mystery still remains : I can but bow my head, and say, 
'•'Even so, Father: for so it seemed good in Thy sight/' 
I have marked, in connection with the death of 
children, two things which have frequently caused me 
to wonder. The first is, that there is often before death 
(i.e., while yet the child is in health) something like a 
premonition of what is coming. I can write it now 
after ten years, but for many days I could not speak 
of it, what a little child, some three years and a half 
of age, said to me a few days before his death. I had 
just finished reading, at family worship, the third 
chapter of John s gospel, when the little boy, seated, as 
was his wont, upon my knee, lifted his blue eyes with 
a light in them that shone " neither on land nor sea," 
and said, i: Father, I would like to be bom again:" 
and the answer given by me was not what it would 
have been had I known that almost the next time I 
saw him (for he died while I was a hundred miles from 
home) the prattle of the childish tongue would be 
hushed for me for ever, and the pattering feet would 
make my heart dance with j oy— nevermore, nevermore. 
I have no doubt that many who have, like Eaehel, 
wept for those " that are not;' will be able to call up 
similar instances (mysterious and incomprehensible) of 
premonitions of death — let me rather say of life — orcne> 
part of little children: but I simply mention whaf of 
upon my own ear, and sank deeply into my own h s °* 



CONSOLATION. 



207 



The other point, which has once and again surprised 
me in connection with the death of children, is the 
intense admiration which they have, when their end 
draws near, for the Book of Hevelation. This is to 
me most incomprehensible when I reflect upon the 
deep things of God with which that portion of the 
sacred volume is crowded. I know not how it is, 
unless it be that that part of the child-nature which is 
strongest — viz., the imagination — finds there its most 
appropriate stimulating nutriment. I recollect about 
the commencement of my ministry being summoned 
to visit a child of some seven years of age, who was 
supposed to be nearing home. Having offered prayer, 
it occurred to me to ask if he wished that I should 
read with him a verse or two of the New Testament, a 
copy of which lay upon his pillow. I suggested the 
tenth chapter of the Gospel according to John, when 
the voice of the little one, quivering with emotion, 
said, " jSTo ! read about the bonnie gold streets, and the 
men wi' white claes" (clothes). I had not finished 
reading the Apocalypse above two hours, when the 
seven-year-old child knew more about it all than I do 
even now, after twenty years of study, aided by the 
most learned commentators. 

My object is not to write a sermon, but to cast into 
a connected form one or two thoughts which have been 
drifting about in my mind for years. We are standing 
— the best and holiest of us — on the shores of time, 
striving with eager ear and strained vision to catch the 
faintest sound and the faintest glimpse from within 



208 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the veil. Sometimes I imagine that the veil grows 
thinner round the edge, and that a strong breath of 
prayer makes it quiver and shake, so that a beam 
comes straggling, and a note comes wandering, down 
to this lower world, where we see as through a glass, 
darkly; and that both the ray and the sound keep 
our hearts full of good cheer— inasmuch as "what wa 
know not now, we shall know hereafter." 



ADDRESS AT THE INTERMENT OF A CHILD. 
Rev. J. P. Chown, Bradford. 

We must all sympathize with the grief of bereaved 
parents. I do not know that I have ever felt more of 
it than during the past week, over the sights I have 
witnessed in the cemetery on the hill-side. I have 
seen the coffins of two little ones placed side by side in 
the chapel, and another coffin by their side, containing 
the remains of a mother, and the motherless children 
and the childless mother were sorrowing together. 
And I have seen another clear one lowered into its 
last resting-place, and the parents almost dragged from 
the spot, as though they could not leave it there. And 
I have seen another laid side by side with its grandsire, 
as old age and infancy slept together in their cold 
chamber. And yet another laid in its narrow resting- 
place, and then the little ones that were left dropping 
their white roses, the parents' tears, precious dew- 
drops, falling with them, upon the clear babe whose 



CONSOLATION. 



209 



spirit had gone to glory, and whose body was left to 
moulder to its native dust. There is generally, how- 
ever, in such a case, much to console us in our sorrow, 
if it may never be entirely taken away. Sometimes 
the child is taken, when God sees if it were spared it 
would engross too much of the parents' affections, it 
would be idolized instead of loved — would be in the 
place of the Saviour and heaven to the parents, and 
that would not be well either for them or the child. 
Sometimes the child is taken instead of the parent. 
Justice does not say, "Thou fool, this night thy soul 
shall be required of thee," but Mercy says, instead, " I 
will call the child, and that may arrest him in his 
course, and the shock may break the ties that bind 
him to sin." And so the child, who is ready for heaven, 
is taken — the parent, who must have been cast down 
to hell, is spared. Sometimes God sees that our affec- 
tions are becoming too closely entwined around earthly 
objects, and He takes the child, that those affections 
maybe drawn up to heaven with it; it needs a painful 
wrench to tear them away, and it is thus He snatches 
from us a present treasure, to lead us to seek after 
future and everlasting joys. And then we know they 
are not lost — these dear departed children. The flower 
was given, and had just begun to bloom in its beauty 
and breathe its fragrance through your dwelling, and 
now it is gone ; but it is not withered, it is not stolen, 
it is not destroyed ; the Lord of the garden has sent 
His messenger, and he has plucked it, and borne it up 
from the desert world, whose rude blasts chilled it, to 



210 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the Paradise where it shall bud and bloom in the 
sun-liglit of heaven for ever. Remember, too, how 
many parents would have rejoiced if their fevers had 
been taken to Paradise, instead of being spared to be 
the poor, wretched, withered, down-trodden things they 
are now, — rather weeds, indeed, than flowers, — or 
crushed, it may be, almost out of existence altogether. 
And think, also, that if our little ones were taken from 
heaven to earth, or even if it were from earth to an 
unknown place, or to a worse place, then we might 
grieve over it ; but it is not so, if we have them not 
here we have them in heaven. About whomsoever we 
may have doubts over their departure, there is no room 
for doubt here ; the Saviour who gathered them around 
Him upon earth, and messed them, is gathering them 
around Him in heaven, and blessing them in a manner 
of which we can form no conception; and so they are 
there, dwelling in His presence, blessed in His smile, 
rich in His glory, and waiting to welcome those who 
shall follow them, to their portion of everlasting peace 
and joy. 



JOHN BROWN AND HIS LITTLE GRAVES. 
David Pae, Edinburgh. * 

Ltf the churchyard, and in matters connected with it, 
J ohn Brown seemed quite a different man from what 
he was anywhere else. Genial, free, and hearty in his 

* Author of "Jessie Melville,'' <fcc, &c. 



CONSOLATION. 



211 



own house and the village, he was grave and taciturn 
in the discharge of his funereal duties, and watched over 
the place of tombs with a jealous care. This part of 
his character no one could read but the parish minister; 
he alone had the key to it. The secret, however, was 
this. The deepest affections of his soul centred on the 
enclosed two acres, which he had tended for twenty 
years. He regarded it with a pride, and even a love, 
as great as, and very similar to, that with which an 
enthusiastic gardener looks upon his domain, and 
cherishes its floral treasures. Every new-made grave 
was to John like a flower which he had planted, and it 
was added in his memory to the many hundreds which 
covered the surface of the enclosure ; to be thought 
of and cherished according to the degree of respect 
and reverence which the sexton had for its inmate. 
As a gardener has his favourite flowers, so John had 
his favourite graves, and spent additional time on their 
adornment. Hence one grave might be seen with a 
smooth velvet turf, and a flower or two blooming upon 
it, while those surrounding it were covered with rank 
masses of grass; thus, by looking at any one grave, 
it could be known what was the state of John's 
feelings towards the mouldering dust beneath. His 
professional love was particularly lavished on the little 
ones. For the children's graves he had a peculiar 
affection and reverence. ?Sot one of them was suffered 
to go to waste; and long after the little mound had 
disappeared, the small level spot was easily found by 
patches of white clover — for J ohn invariably sowed this 



212 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



on the little graves, and on none other. Mr. Gray had 
not been long minister of the parish till he noticed the 
odd practice of his grave-digger; and one day when he 
oame upon John smoothing and trimming the lowly 
bed of a child which had been buried a few days before, 
he asked him why he was so particular in dressing 
and keeping the graves of the children. John paused 
for a moment at his work, and looking up, not at the 
minister, but at the sky, said, " Of such is the kingdom 
of heaven.' 

" And on this account you tend and adorn them with 
so much care," remarked the minister, who was greatly 
struck with the reply. 

" Surely, sir," answered John, " I canna make ower 
braw and fine the bed-coverin' o' a little innocent sleeper 
that is waitin' there till it is God's time to wauken it 
and cover it with the white robe, and waft it away to 
glory. "When sic grandeur is awaitin' it yonder, it's fit 
it should be decked oot here. I think the Saviour that 
counts its dust sae precious will like to see the white 
clover sheet spread abune't; dae ye no think sae tae, sir?" 

"But why not thus cover larger graves]" asked the 
minister, hardly able to suppress his emotion. " The 
dust of all His saints is precious in the Saviour's sight." 

" Very true, sir," responded John, with great 
solemnity, " but I canna be sure wha are his saints and 
wha are no. I hope there are mony o' them lyin' in 
this kirkyard; but it wad be great presumption in me 
to mark them oot. There are some that I'm gey sure 
aboot, and I keep their graves as nate and snod as I 



CONSOLATION. 



213 



can, and plant a bit floure here and there as a sign o' 
my hope ; but I daurna gie them the white sheet. Its 
clean different, though, wi' the bairns. We hae His 
ain word for their up-going, and sae I canna mak' an 
error there. Some folk, I believe, are bauld enough to 
say that it's only the infants o' the gude that wull be 
saved." 

"And do you adhere to that doctrine]" inquired 
Mr. Gray. 

John answered by pointing to a little patch a few 
paces off, which was thickly covered with clover. 

" That ane," he said, " is the bairn o' Tarn Lutton, 
the collier. Ye ken Tarn, sir V 

Mr. Gray did, indeed, know Tarn, for he was the 
most notorious swearer, liar, and drunkard in the 
parish ; and J ohn did not require to say any more to 
show that he disbelieved the doctrine of the condem- 
nation of infants. 

" It's no only cruel and blasphemous," he continued^ 
in a dry, sarcastic way, "but it's quite absurd. Jist 
tak' that bairn o' Tarn's as an example. According to 
their belief it's lost; because we may, without ony 
breach o' charity, say that Tarn is at present a reprobate. 
But he is still in the place of hope, sir; and it is quite 
possible that he may be converted. What comes o' 
the bairn then ? ISTa, na," he added, looking reverently 
upward, "God is merciful, and Jesus died; and it 
was Him that said, 6 Of such is the kingdom of 
heaven.' " 

Mr. Gray was much struck by the deep feeling and 



214 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



fervent piety manifested by the grave-digger, and 
thought he would extract more of his ideas regarding 
the subject on which they had been speaking. For 
this purpose he pointed to the little grave which John 
was trimming so neatly, and, knowing it be that of a 
still-born child, he observed, 

" Is it not mysterious, John, that the little human 
form lying there should not have been permitted to 
cross the porch of existence 1 I saw it as it lay so still 
and beautiful in its snowy robe, and as I noticed its 
perfect form, with every organ and every limb com- 
plete, T was almost tempted to ask why God had made 
such a beautiful temple in vain." 

uc In vain,' say ye," returned John. "Xa, no in 
vain. God mak's naething in vain, far less a form 
like that in His ain image. Omnipotent as He is, and 
infinite in His perfections, He canna afford tae fashun 
sic a glorious object only that worms might prey on it. 
The little marble image lying below this sod is as great 
a thing as ever God made on this earth. Adam, 
whan he rose up frae the green sward o' Eden, wasna 
mair physically perfect. He was bigger, nae doot, but 
nae better formed ; and was the ane made in vain ony 
mair than the ither 1 Na, na 5 na. The bairnie, puir 
lammie, '11 ken naething o' the joys and sorrows, the 
sunshine and shadow o' this life ; but he'll be a pure, 
unsullied sharer o' the life that is ayont this, and 
higher than this : for I aye cast anchor on the blessed 
words spoken by the Redeemer o' men and infants, 'Of 
such is the kingdom of heaven;' and whan I think o' a 



CONSOLATION. 



215 



still-born wean, I think o' a human being, made, no 
for time, but for immortality" 

The minister took John's hand, and silently pressed 
it. He had got the key to his deeper nature, and was 
thrilled by its unexpected richness. 



THE CHILDREN OF THE HEATHEN. 
Rev. Gilbert M 'Caelum, Dewsbury. 

The spectacle which heathendom presents to the 
Christian mind, is truly appalling. As we traverse in 
imagination the vast empire of India, with its two 
hundred millions of souls, and the still vaster empire 
of China, with its four hundred millions, together with 
I the continent of Africa, and the islands of the sea, the 
heart becomes oppressed with unutterable sadness as 
we behold the language of the Psalmist still so awfully 
verified when he says, that "the dark places of the 
earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." 

But is there no oasis in this moral desert to relieve 
the eye, no ray of light to illume the terrific gloom that 
overspreads those regions of the earth unblest by bibles, 
unvisited by missionaries, and cursed with the savage 
. barbarities of idolatrous worship ? Yes, blessed be God, 
even here He displays the tenderness of redeeming love, 
the efficacy of Christ's atoning blood. Not to speak, at 
present, of the future destiny of heathen adults who 
' have never heard the gospel, and in reference to whom 
it is written that God hath not left Himself without a 



216 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



witness of His being propitious, in that He giveth 
them rain and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts with 
food and gladness— how pleasing to contemplate that 
the very cruelties of heathenism, by which myriads of 
"innocents" are immolated on the altar of idolatry, are 
overruled by the Great Father of all for peopling heaven 
with a countless multitude that would otherwise, in all 
probability, eternally perish. For it is our cherished 
belief, that not the offspring merely of pious parents, 
but also the children dying in infancy that pertain to 
ungodly parents, shall have an abundant entrance into 
the house of many mansions, and a most joyous welcome 
by Him who said, when on earth, " Suffer the little 
children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven. 5 ' 

Who are they whose little feet, 

Pacing life's short journey through, 
Now have reached that heavenly seat, 

Which they never had in view? 
*-I from Greenland's frozen land 

" I from India's sultry plain 
M I from Af ric's barren sand 

" I from islands of the main/' 

" All our earthly journey past, 

Every tear and pain gone by, 
Here together met at last, 

At the portal of the sky." 
Each the welcome 81 Come " awaits, 

88 Conqueror over death and sin!" 
Lift your heads ye golden gates, 

Let the little travellers in. 



CONSOLATION. 



217 



GRIEF NOT FORGOTTEN. 
Rev. William Blalr, M.A., Dunblane. 

" Your sweet boy lias already had several delightful 
months in the New Jerusalem!" Such was the close 
of a letter I received from a dear friend, some time 
after I had surrendered my first-born to God. The 
memory of my loss was then quick and fresh. Years 
have passed away since I received that quaint token 
of comfort, and the sense of the loss has not, now, the 
keen edge it had to me then. But as I open to-day the 
reserve pocket of my purse, and spread out before me the 
fragment of my friend's letter, I can bring up the past 
as readily from memory as I can bring out that little 
message of consolation. Like all potent spiritual forces, 
grief gives its sharpest pang when in closest contact 
with us. The wire vibrates most when it is newly 
struck. I have witnessed grief in all its aspects and 
shades of difference, and the most clamorous I have 
noticed is the shortest lived. Poor orphans wailing as 
if they would break down the walls of their miserable 
garret; dutiful daughters giving vent to the most im- 
passioned cries over the dead body of a loving mother ; 
parents bending in quiet composure over the little heap 
of dust they once called their darling son, are memories 
of the house of mourning that never die. And it 
comports with experience that the most uncontrollable 
is usually the most slender grief when the moment of 
reaction comes. The violence of the flame devours the 
fuel on which it feeds. Vehement grief is self-consum- 



p 



218 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



ing; slow, silent sorrow is but the gathering wave, 
that swells up and breaks in billows over the soul. I 
cannot understand that grief that is shallow. It is a 
misnomer. The soil, across which the ploughshare is 
drawn, may be so thin and poor as to leave no furrow 
for the reception of the seed; or the surface has only 
been grazed, and the sub-soil untouched. Real, true 
grief goes down into the deeps of our nature, and breaks 
up the fallow ground. 

Yet some talk flippantly of grief as if it were " scene 
painting and counterfeit." Says Emerson, " The only 
thing grief has taught me is to know how shallow it is. 
That, like all the rest, plays about the surface and 
never introduces me into the reality, for contact with 
which we would ever pay the costly price of sons and 
lovers. Grief, too, will make us idealists. In the death 
of my son, now more than two years ago, I seem to 
have lost a beautiful estate, — no more. I cannot get 
it nearer to me. If to-morrow I should be informed 
of the bankruptcy of my principal debtors, the loss of 
my property would be a great inconvenience to me, 
perhaps, for many years, but it would leave me as it 
found me — neither better nor worse. So it is with 
this calamity: it does not touch me. Something 
which I fancied was a part of me, which could not be 
torn away without tearing me, nor enlarged without 
enriching me, falls off from me, and leaves no scar. It 
was caducous. I grieve that grief can teach me no- 
thing, nor carry me one step into real nature/'''' So 

* Essay II. Experience. 2nd Series. By Pv. TV. Emerson. 



CONSOLATION. 219 

might we all grieve were this teaching the true philo- 
sophy of grief. But the philosophy is false, because 
it is not true to human nature, nor the religion of 
Jesus Christ. We grant that grief itself is not medi- 
cine to the soul any more than sickness is health. But 
just as in affliction we lie quietly moored, as in a haven, 
taking in fresh stores for sailing life's sea, so in grief 
we take berth, as in a graving- clock, that the soul may 
be equipped and renovated for weathering the gales 
of time. Grief is not the seed, but the seed-time of 
benediction. Those only " that are exercised thereby, 
reap the peaceable fruit of righteousness," — those, 
namely, " that sow in tears." It is not grief that is to 
blame, but ourselves, if we are not enriched by its 
flood-tide upon our souls. The Nile is the enricher of 
the Egyptian farmer, just in proportion as he is all 
energy and unflagging activity after its waters subside. 
To preach such a sad gospel of grief, as Emerson does, 
is to teach men to spurn the most potent stimulus and 
propelling force of the inner life. It is to ask us to 
bury our griefs with our dead, "out of our sight." 
And there is danger lest we forget, or what is quite 
the same, let down our estimate of past griefs. As- 
suredly we shall be spiritually impoverished for this 
cheapening of the price we paid for our great sorrow. 
In so doing, we shall forego our hold of the vows and 
pledges we made; we shall outlive the fears and soul- 
concern excited within us; we shall succeed in over- 
coming the tender and subduing influence grief wielded 
over us, and so become squanderers of the precious 



220 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



boons Heaven put within our grasp, in " the season 
of heaviness." Forgotten grief is a wasted blessing. 
There are, doubtless, more ways than one of cherishing 
the memory of our sorrows. You may remember grief 
as a fiction or as a fact ; as you recall sad music, or 
the sorrows of a hero of whom you have read; or you 
may recall grief as a part of your life-experience. 
There is a world of space between grief as a sentiment 
and as a reality of the life. It is easy to sentimentalize 
sorrow, to trick it out in sounding words; but to be ; 
involved within it, as in a sphere, to have <; its tears 
as your meat," as David had them, this is to know 
and feel its power. 

It is grief as a sentiment that is weak and "shallow," 
not as a motive power in the soul. Let sentimental, 
sensational grief be unremembered, for it is no better 
than noisy laughter. It touches only the surface: it 
has no power to stir the depths of our nature. It 
weaves its immortelles, and hangs them around the 
tomb, and straightway forgets what manner of man it 
once was. But genuine, real grief is not forgetful nor 
empty. It is a fruitful bough by a well whose branches 
run over the wall. It is a full rounded cluster 
wherein is the wine of life; " destroy it not, for there 
is a blessing in it." Keep alive the memory of your 
grief, the hallowed associations with which it is en- 
twined, the nearness of your soul to God when heaven 
seemed let down to earth to take from you the best of 
earth to heaven, the reality of prayer then offered, and 
of the answer received, and the rapture of heavenly 



CONSOLATION. 



221 



joy in which you walked when your home was "the 
valley of the shadow of death." Cherish the memory, 
freshen the sense you have of your grief, not to throw 
shadows athwart your pathway, but to brighten it 
with light from heaven. Visit in thought the chamber 
where the strife of death was waged, and the church- 
yard corner where you deposited the precious dust, and 
think of the transfiguration, now that the decease has 
been accomplished, and the new link to bind your 
heart to the unseen, and the grand re-union coming 
nearer every day, and then the untold happiness not 
of "months in the Xew Jerusalem," but of "for ever 
with the Lord," and with all you have loved and lost, 
but found again when you shall be found of Christ at 
His coming. 

Lord Monboddo lost a beloved daughter, and grieved 
after a worldly sort over her. Her picture on the wall 
only reminded him of his misery. A friend drew a 
curtain over that picture : upon which the sad father 
said, "That is kind: come now, and let us read Herod- 
otus." Miserable comforter, that romancing father of 
Greek history to a grieving father! Seek not so to 
bury your sorrow. "Go and tell Jesus," as John's 
disciples did when their Master was taken away. That 
is the way to get your grief assuaged, to have it trans- 
figured so that the carte in the album, or the bust on 
the wall, or the head-stone at the grave, will bring no 
shade of gloom around your brow; but each remem- 
brance of your little one may prove a beckoning light 
up through the darkness to the light that is inaccessible 



222 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



and full of glory. That is the way to get the breach 
healed. It may be that in the first outburst of your 
sorrow, when your sons and daughters rose up to com- 
fort you, you put aside their ministry of consolation, 
and, like Jacob, said, " I will go down into the grave 
unto my son mourning." But, in the end of the days 
when parting words are spoken, Benoni, the son of 
sorrow, has become Benjamin, the son of my right 
hand, and the crowning benediction rests on the head 
of him that was separate from his brethren. Then, in 
the light of that Presence every shadow of earth's 
darkness will flee away, every Gethsemane become an 
Olivet, every step in the vale of tears a step in your 
ascension to the everlasting Kingdom. 



GRIEF COMMON. 
Eev. David Russell, Dunfermline. 

Mai* is born to troubles, and Christians are not 
exempted from them. Of all forms of trial to which 
they are liable, that of the loss of children by death 
may be regarded as one of the very greatest. In most 
cases it is not known what trial means till Death 
enters the dwelling, and carries off to his cold and dark 
dominions the child who has been the joy, the hope, 
the idol of its parents. Job bore with apparent com- 
posure the tidings of disaster upon disaster, till, at 
last, the announcement was made of the sadden death 
of his children; then he "arose, and rent his mantle, 



CONSOLATION. 



223 



and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, 
and worshipped, and said, ' Naked came I out of my 
mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither : the 
Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be 
the name of the Lord.' " How many mourners, royal 
and not royal, have experienced sorrow as great as 
David's when he mourned for Absalom, and have 
grieved as bitterly as Rachel when she "wept for her 
children, and refused to be comforted, because they 
were not." Christian parents, then, should remember 
that if their trial has been a great one, it is by no 
means a rare one; and the commonness of the afflic- 
tion should in some degree temper their sorrow when 
bereaved of their children; they should regard the 
words of Peter as applying to them, " Beloved, think 
it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to 
try you, as though some strange thing happened 
unto you." True, the commonness of the grief 
is but a poor consolation to the desolate heart of a 
parent; perhaps, as the poet represents, it may some- 
times aggravate rather than assuage the bitterness of 
his sorrow, — 

" One writes, that ' Other friends remain,* 
That 'Loss is common to the race, 3 
And common is the common place, 
And vacant chaff well meant for grain. 

That loss is common would not make 
My own less bitter, rather more : 
Too common ! Never morning wore 

To evening, but some heart did break." 



224 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Yet the circumstance should not be altogether over- 
looked by mourners in Zion. Parents are too apt to 
suppose that no loss is so great as theirs; that no child 
was so dear, so clever, so good as theirs, and that, there- 
fore, no sorrow can be like unto theirs, till they look 
abroad and try to weigh the distresses of others against 
their own. Then there is this result arising from 
the commonness of sorrow, that abundance of precious 
sympathy is at hand for the bereaved in the day of 
their calamity. One who has lost a child in infancy, 
for example, may learn how to bear his sorrow from 
considering the case of Jairus, the ruler of the syna- 
gogue. If it is a heavy trial to part with a child who 
is a mere infant, how much sorer the trial when, the 
dangers of infancy over, that child is at the interest- 
ing age of twelve years, and day by day is unfolding 
new beauties of mind, and heart, and body, and daily 
entwining itself more firmly around the parent's heart. 
If there were sons in the family of Jairus, it would have 
been a bitter trial to have had one of them taken from 
him; and had God asked him to choose which he would 
most readily surrender, we can imagine the perplexity 
of his heart, and how readily he would refer the matter 
back to God, to do as seemed good to Him. But an 
only daughter! She would be the very last that he 
could think of giving up, and he would entreat most 
earnestly that God would, in mercy, spare her. She 
was, perhaps, not merely an only daughter, but an 
only child, in which case the anguish of his heart 
would be intensified in an inconceivable degree; for 



CONSOLATION. 



225 



of all griefs that for an only child is, by universal 
consent, regarded as the most poignant — 

"But one, poor one, one poor and lovely child — 
But one thing to rejoice and solace in — 
And cruel death hath snatch' d it from my sight. 5 ' 

Bereaved parent ! has your loss been as great as was 
that of Jairus] Even if it has, can you think of none 
who have been tried beyond what you have been *? 
Then go where J aims went for sympathy and succour. 
Be not afraid of "troubling the Master." What 
troubles Him is the want of faith and want of prayer. 
Hear His words, "Fear not; only believe," and, " Thy 
daughter is not dead, but sleepeth." You may not 
expect your child to be restored to a life of sin and 
sorrow on earth. Would you wish it % But He who 
restored the daughter of J aims after only a few hours' 
death, can restore yours, and will restore hini, though 
thousands of years should have to elapse ere the 
trump shall sound, which the dead shall hear, and 
hearing shall arise. Then may Christian parents hope 
that they and their children shall rise together, to 
mingle their voices in the song, ever old, ever new, 
" Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our 
sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and 
priests unto God and His rather; to Him be glory 
and dominion for ever and ever. Amen!" 



226 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



EE SIGN AT I ON TO THE WILL OF GO IX 

Mrs. Janet Hamilton, Langloan, Coatbridge. 

Not long since, I paid a visit to a neighbour of mine who 
had lately suffered some severe domestic bereavements. 
She was lately the mother of two sweet and amiable girls. 
She never had any other children, and being on the 
shady side of fifty herself, she had looked forward with 
hope to a time, when the infirmities of old age would 
overtake her, to receive from them that attention, help, 
and comfort which their filial love and dutiful affection 
seemed to warrant. But "God, who seeth not as man 
seeth," and who often brings His own people "through 
fire and water to a wealthy place," saw fit to remove 
the green and tender saplings; thereby loosening the 
earth-bound roots of the mother tree, though in the 
process every fibre of her heart thrilled with agony at 
the separation. And in this, her Lour of bitter trial, 
she was sometimes ready to say with her Saviour in 
His agony, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass 
from me," still she was enabled to add, "not my will, 
but Thine be clone." This being the happy frame of this 
mother's mind, she was enabled to bear up under the 
heavy shock given to maternal love and natural feeling 
by the sudden death of her youngest daughter, who was 
cut off by scarlatina, after a few days' illness. The eldest, 
who had also been attacked by the same disease, partially 
recovered, but, after lingering for some months, followed 
her sister to the grave. It was about a week after the 
interment that I paid the visit to the mother I have 



CONSOLATION. 



227 



already mentioned. I found her sitting alone, and busy 
knitting. Some mourners put away and hide from sight 
clothes, books, toys, and every relic of the beloved dead. 
Not so Mrs. G. ; the work of the eldest lay on the table, 
and the stools on which the children used to sit still 
occupied their respective places, and their school-bags 
still hung on their accustomed pegs. She was pale 
and grave, but wore a look of patience and resignation. 
"When she saw me, she rose and held out her hand,* 
and, although her eyes filled and her lip quivered when 
she did so, she soon recovered her composure. The 
Bible of the eldest lay on the table before her. It had 
been almost her sole companion since her daughter's 
death, and the source from which she had drawn com- 
fort and resignation. 

After a short pause, I said to her, " Margaret, is it 
well with thee'? is it well with the child?" Without 
hesitation she replied, "It is well, He hath done all 
things well, and I am resigned to His will." She then 
pointed to the now open Bible before her. " See," she 
said, "that was my Elizabeth's Sunday school Bible, 
and there are the texts chosen and marked out by her, 
to prove the exercise given out by her teacher for the 
coming Sunday — (the exercise was this, fi we should be 
resigned to the will of God in all things') — but little 
did she or I think that we must prove it, not only by 
suitable Scripture proofs, but also by our own resigna- 
tion and submission to the will of God in the heavy 
trial so near at hand. For, when Sunday came, my 
Elizabeth lay on her death-bed, and in the delmum of 



228 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



fever she constantly repeated at intervals, in broken 
words, the intended exercise, c We should be resigned 
to the will of God in all things;' and blessed be God, 
who enabled me, at each unconscious repetition of the 
exercise, to respond in my heart to the precious sentence. 
She had a conscious interval before death, during 
which she several times expressed a wish to die and to 
be with Jesus, and her last audible words were the re- 
frain of her favourite hymn, 6 O Lamb of God, I come ! ' 
She fell asleep in Jesus. And I have also a good hope, 
through grace, for my dear little Janet. And though 
I sit alone here I am not solitary, for God is with me. 
And in this book (referring to her daughter's Bible) my 
Elizabeth 'being dead yet speaketh.' My daughters are 
gone to God, but I have many other sources of consola- 
tion; for never now (it might have been so had they 
lived) shall sin, sorrow, or shame light upon them." 

She ceased to speak; and I found that she, whom I 
came to comfort, had ministered both comfort and 
instruction to myself.* 

* This brief paper is from the busy brain and generous heart 
of Mrs. Janet Hamilton, in some respects one of the most remark- 
able women in Scotland. She is the author of two volumes — 
"Poems and Essays," and "Poems and Sketches " — which were 
very favourably noticed by the British press, and are now out of 
print. This "Mother in Israel" has recently lost her eyesight, 
but feels as deeply interested as ever in all that pertains to the 
present and future welfare of the human family, and is a frequent 
and acceptable poetical contributor to the press. She was born 
in October, 1795, at Carr's-hilL Shotts, and has resided for 
upwards of sixty years at Langloan, Coatbridge. 



CONSOLATION. 



229 



A CAFFRARIAN CHIEF CONVERTED BY THE 

DEATH OF HIS CHILD. 
Rev. Robert Niven, Late Missionary in Caferaria, 

NOW AT MARYHILIi, GLASGOW. 

Eighteen years ago, Ngcwelesh, son of Nqeno, chief 
of the Amambalu tribe, among whom I then laboured, 
placed his favourite daughter, Uyelane, among the 
native boarders at the Igqibigha, under the female 
teacher, Miss Maclaren, afterwards Mrs. M'Corkell, of 
Londonderry— since a saint in glory. Uyelane was 
then twelve years of age — she was docile, delighted 
with the change, and drew on the affection of her fair 
guide. Winter came, which is there chill, without 
frost. One day Uyelane had sat down near the expir- 
ing embers of a wood fire. Unconscious of her dress 
having ignited, she went out in the face of a strong 
wind, which blew her garments into names. I was 
sent for, but it was only to see the mute sufferer led in, 
shivering with agony, asking of me, with an anxious 
look, "Ndofanal NdofanaT' Shall I die? shall I die? 
Three-fourths of her person was burnt, and our 
every effort failed to restore the healthy action of the 
atmosphere on so much of the frame denuded of skin. 
"Ndiyatsha, Ndiyatsha," I am burning, I am burning, 
was all her reply to enquiries about her suffering. 
Twenty hours had elapsed. Her end was evidently 
approaching. I asked her how she felt. "Isdiyagocluka," 
I am going home, was her answer. Where 1 "To be 
with Christ," she said, and fell asleep in Jesus. 



230 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



A messenger had been instantly despatched to apprise 
her father's house (they were at a distance), and to ask 
Mm to come. He did not come. Word was again 
sent, with an invitation to visit — in our sadness; but 
in vain. At length I crossed the Keiskamma to his 
kraal, where I found Ngcwelesh sad and silent. When 
he looked at me, he covered his face with his blanket, 
to hide his emotion. He sobbed aloud, and again look- 
ing at me, he said, "Niveni! I gave my child to you to 
preserve her alive, but it was only to put her in the 
fire." Again hiding his countenance in his mantle, he 
wept, with Esau's tears, but without the cries of the 
distracted Hebrew. 

'•'Let me speak, Ngcwelesh." "Was not your giving 
TJyelane as you did, a bargain-making with God — 
saying, you would give God TJyelane to be brought up 
in His ways; but that you would live a heathen your- 
self?' "Truly," answered he, "it was just so." "Now," 
rejoined I, "by the manner of her death, God was teach- 
ing you that TJyelane was His child — whom He has 
taken to glory in a chariot of fire; and from the ashes 
of her grave, hear now God's voice to you, c My son, 
Ngewelesh! give me thine ovm heart.'" The "stout- 
hearted" father uncovered his face, and looking 
arrested, awe-struck, he exclaimed, "How mighty is 
the Word of God!" 

I left, not knowing that the arrow of conviction had 
been lodged by the Spirit in that house. The chief 
soon followed, to learn the way of God more perfectly 
—embraced Christianity with his household, and lived 



CONSOLATION. 



231 



and died in the faith, which his widow still holds. 
His eldest son, Seyolo, whom I brought home in 1851, 
along with now the Rev. Tiyo Soga, has returned, a 
hopeful Christian, baptized in this country, to work at 
the Umgwali Station, at his business as a carpenter, 
where Mr. Soga, his missionary countryman, has long 
wanted him to be. 

The Great Shepherd, in the case of Uyelane, took a 
lamb up to the heavenly fold to draw her father's house 
to follow. 'He taketk one of a city, and two of a 
family, and bringeth them to Zion." "He calleth 
His own sheep by name, and leadeth them out." 



GOD'S RELATIONSHIP TO CHILDREN. 

Rev Johx Guthrie, A.M., Glasgow. 

The precious doctrine of the salvation of all who die 
in infancy, rests on a basis of Biblical doctrine abso- 
lutely impregnable. We stay not to array its evidence 
now. If we did, we should be disposed to spend little 
time over isolated textual proofs — precious as many of 
these are, and most divinely significant of love and 
tenderness for babes. We should rather turn from 
these to the great Sun of redemptive truth, shining full- 
orbed in our spiritual firmament, and say to every 
weeping Rachel, "This is true consolation for you, just 
to 'know the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom 
He hath sent.' " 

As respects God the Father, need I do more than 



232 



WOKDS OF COMFORT. 



cull a few declarations of His character and relation to 
us, sinners though we be, — any one of which might 
well dry up your tears, and any one of which is enough 
to prove the Bible to be divine I " The Lord is 
righteous in ail His ways, and holy in all His works." 
"The Lord is veiy pitiful, and of tender mercy." 
"The Lord doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the 
children of men." "The Lord is good to all; and 
His tender mercies are over all His works." "'God 
willeth not that any should perish." " It is not the 
will of your Father, who is in heaven, that one of these 
little ones should perish." " God is Love." "'Like as 
a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them 
that fear Him." "The mercy of the Lord is from 
everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him, 
and His righteousness unto children's children." 

As respects the Divine Redeemer, does not His 
sacrifice over-canopy the entire race I 

"Wide as the reach, of Satan's rage, 

Doth His salvation now; 
'Tis not confined to sex or age, 

The lofty or the low. 

Investigate the reasoning in Romans, chap, v., and 
you will find that its principles directly involve the sal- 
vation of all dying infants. The parallel there traced 
between the First Adam and the Second, is qualified 
in some points ; but with what effect ? Why, to show 
that the scope of grace under the second Adair, 
instead of failing short of, or barely covering, im- 
measurably transcends the scope of ruin under the first. 



CONSOLATION. 



233 



" Grace reigns/" with a very royalty of dominance ; and 
so triumphantly does it superabouncl, that not a soul 
would be lost, but for the persistent obduracy in unbe- 
lief of free, will-endowed, actual transgressors. But 
actual transgressors and unbelievers infants are not. 
As yet, they can neither believe the Gospel nor reject 
it. As infants, they are under the canopy of redemp- 
tive grace ; and if they die in infancy, they die in grace. 
In themselves, they have as yet no reason, and no 
fitness, for either hell or heaven. They have none for 
hell, for they have not yet actually sinned. And they 
have just as little for heaven, for they have as yet no 
righteousness. How then do they get thither I The 
answer is, Through Him alone who is to babe, as well 
as to adult, "the Lord our Righteousness." On the 
ground of His perfect propitiation, the babe, after it 
has resigned its feeble breath, is caught up by angels 
to God and His throne; and those little sainted 
cherubs, we may rest assured, will be among the best 
welcomed spirits that enter the bowers of bliss. 

The propitiation of Jesus — this it is that answers all 
questions, and ministers all consolation. While, last 
in the order of operation, comes the Divine Spirit, 
and, in wonder-working ways unknown to us, fits the 
infantile spirit for immediate participation in the holy 
enjoyments and activities of heaven. 

Thus our Father in Heaven, the infinite parent of us 
all, and the Saviour, who did what no parent has done, — 
shed His blood to redeem them, — have a closer relation 
to our children, and a better right to them, than we. 

Q 



234 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Be it the endeavour, then, of mourning parents to 
exclaim with the bereft patriarch, and as much as 
possible in that patriarch's spirit and power, "The 
Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away ; blessed be 
the name of the Lord ! " Yea, let them overflow with 
hallelujahs, that, in the Atonement of Jesus, they have 
such an impregnable ground of hope in respect to their 
deceased children. The fact that these children are in 
heaven, among the shining throng, white-robed, and 
vocal with the praises of redeeming love, should endear 
Jesus to them the more, through the ransom of whose 
precious blood their darlings are now in an infinitely 
happier than the parental home. This will help you, 
desolate parent, better to appreciate and realize the 
claims of that bright world to which they have been 
summoned. You know not what use God may have 
for them there. Who knows to what glorious account 
Jesus, even now while you weep, may there be turning 
their little radiant spirits % He has the l^pened spirits 
there of "just men made perfect; " and with these He 
gems and jewels His crown of many stars. But He has 
also use there for the infant spirit in its loveliness. If 
the ripened saints are the stars that grace His crown, 
He whose delight is to take the lambs into His arms 
may well cull also the buds and flowerets of childhood to 
cluster as a garland round His bosom of love. Your 
children's precious dust is at present in the hands of 
the enemy; but that enemy, — "the last enemy," — 
shall be destroyed, and you and the tender objects of 
your regret, if you are only faithful to that Saviour 



CONSOLATION. 



235 



whose blood lias saved them, and persevere in the faith 
and love of Him to the end, will meet again ere long, 
triumphant over death, the grim foe that has despoiled 
you, and spend a long and happy Forever in the pres- 
ence of your Lord. 

We would say, in conclusion, to the bereft parent, 
through whose heart grief has driven its rude plough- 
share, and whose wounds, it may be, are yet green, — 
" Mourn not as those who have no hope," for as respects 
your children, "there is hope in their end." In their 
material part only, they are, — like Eachel's of old, — 
"in the land of the enemy:" their nobler part is in 
the land, and in the embrace, of the Infinite Friend. 
Nor is that Friend forgetful of their sleeping dust. It 
is precious in His sight. "The redemption of the 
body" is as sure as "the redemption of the soul." 
That enemy — "the last enemy" — shall one clay be 
destroyed • and on that eventful day, " your children 
shall come again." Only see to it, now, like David, 
that you will, by faith, "go to them," and Jesus will 
see to it then that they shall "come to you." "Thus 
saith the Lord, refrain thy voice from weeping and 
thine eyes from tears, for thy work shall be rewarded, 
si.Lh the Lord ; and they shall come again from the 
land of the enemy." What a rapturous prospect for 
the Christian parent ! 



236 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE BLESSEDNESS OF HEAVENLY COMFORT. 
Rev. George Gilfillan, Dundee. 

"Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be 
comforted." These words form a portion of our Lord's 
sermon on the mount. Probably among the crowds 
which surrounded the Saviour there, not a few might 
present countenances more or less tinged with sorrow. 
Not a few might be shedding bitter and hopeless tears, 
tears which Christ's presence might restrain, but which 
were still flowing in secret. Some might be mourning 
for the loss of relatives, some grieving on account of 
their own poverty and pains, and a few might be 
mourning, each one apart, for his iniquity. The prin- 
cipal, although not the only reference of Christ's words, 
is probably to the latter class: "Blessed are they that 
mourn." 

The true mourner is the object of God's highest com- 
placency. His dwelling, it is said, is in the heart (and 
oh! what a dull dwelling it seems to the world!) of the 
contrite one, who trembles at His word. These true 
mourners may, after all, shed but few tears, and utter 
no loud lamentations; their sorrows may be entirely 
between God and themselves. But God numbereth 
their tears, He putteth them in His bottle — are they 
not in His book? Men sometimes say, to beloved 
sorrowing ones ; in the language of the poet, suiting, 
too, the action to the word — 

' ' And when the unbidden tear shall start, 
To think of all the past, 
My mouth shall kiss that tear away, 
And chase thy sorrows fast." 



CONSOLATION. 



237 



And so God kisses away, but He also preserves His 
people's tears (Psalm lvi. 8). He telleth the amount 
of their agonies, and marketh and weigheth well their 
sorrows, that on the day of deliverance they may be 
remembered to be quenched, every one of them, in the 
deep delights of the sanctuary above. There is no 
transmigration in all the ancient metamorphoses to be 
compared to the true transmigration of the Christian's 
tears into stars of beauty in the upper firmament. 

"They shall be comforted." Observe the emphasis 
of the expression, the absolute "shall." There is no 
doubt about the matter. Who could utter such a 
declaration but God] It is not in man to promise 
comfort in such a fashion. We can only say to the 
mourner, To-morrow, or at such a time, you may most 
likely be comforted: your tears will most likely dry; 
time will work your cure. Alas! what feeble and 
miserable comfort is this ! To-morrow may bring new 
sorrows, or rekindle old agonies into tenfold fury; time 
may but protract the torment. But God says ye shall 
be comforted, and the word must be fulfilled. 

Observe, again, the indefiniteness of the expression. 
The modes of comforting are not declared. And is not 
this a strong stimulus to anticipation and hope? Were 
you, under some severe affliction, to be told that to- 
morrow ye would be comforted, but not told how, 
would you not pant the more after the promised boon, 
that you knew not what it was? So it is here. The 
consolations, in their multitude and their glory, are not 
revealed; but the promise of complete comfort is given: 
God shall wipe away all tears from your eyes. 



238 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And once more, this state of comfort is final and 
lasting. The saints are not to live hereafter as here, 
in a round of deep sorrows and transient glimpses of 
gladness, but are once for all and for ever to be made 
happy. Oh ! the blessedness of those who can thus look 
forward to their last sorrow, to the falling of their last 
tear, whose sea is sure to find a shore, and whose sack- 
cloth is to be loosed that they may be girded with 
gladness ! 

It is in fine keeping with the indefiniteness which 
God leaves advisedly on the nature of our future 
comforts, that very little is said in scripture about the 
conscious re-union of friends in heaven. But the 
heart here utters an oracle, and that oracle we feel is 
true. Yes, Nature can say little. 

"I've asked that dreadful question at the hills. 
That look eternal; of the flowing streams. 
That lucid flow for ever; of the stars, 
Amid whose fields of azure my raised spirit 
Hath trod in glory — all were dumb. But now. 
While I thus gaze upon thy living face, 
I feel the love that kindles through its beauty 
Can never wholly perish. We shall meet 
Again, Clemanthe ! " 

Yes ! it is the heart, along with a few pregnant hints 
in the scripture, which assures us that the objects of 
Christian attachment, that those whom we loved with 
a pure affection on earth, shall join us again beyond 
the stars, where we shall be comforted by their presence, 
and shall even rejoice at the long separation, since so 
sweet, so unspeakably sweet, is the re-union ! 



CONSOLATION. 



239 



UNCONVERTED PARENTS ADMONISHED. 

Bey. Professor M 'Michael, D.D., Dttneermline. 

Christian parents have numerous consolations when 
their child is taken away from them, and finds a home 
in their Father's house on high. The hand of faith 
inscribes upon his tombstone the blessed text: " Suffer 
this little child to come unto me, and forbid him not : 
for of such is the kingdom of God." With the eye of 
faith they can behold him holy and happy, bright and 
beautiful as an angel, playing with others, fair and 
lovely as himself, in the golden streets of the New 
Jerusalem (Zech. viii. 5). But, unhappily, all parents 
are not Christian parents, nor is the bereavement of 
children confined to the Christian circle. And, per- 
haps, there is a danger in themes of this description of 
overlooking the case of mourning parents, who are 
themselves in an unsanctified state, and who are 
destitute of a saving faith in the Lord Jesus. This 
book may fall into their hands, and to them I would 
now utter a word of kind and faithful expostulation. 
May it be abundantly blessed, through the Holy Spirit, 
to promote their eternal interests ! 

My supposition is, — Death has entered your dwel- 
ling, and has snatched a loved one from your embrace. 
That child, I believe, is safe — safe in heaven; but you 
yourselves are still living in sin and unbelief. What 
a monstrous contradiction is here! Your child in 
heaven, while you are on the broad road to hell ! That 



240 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

child was dear, inexpressibly dear to you; but the 
Lord took him. Perhaps it was done for your spiritual 
benefit. Had it not been for this gracious purpose, he 
might have been still with you, cheering your heart. 
More frequently than is imagined, children become 
martyrs for the sake of their ungodly parents. For 
them they wither, and for them they die. But has 
this divine visitation produced the effect which it ought 
to have done? Did you actually look upon your own 
child in the convulsions of death : did you place it in 
its little coffin, and lay its head in the grave, without 
a piercing consciousness of the evil of sin? There 
would have been nothing surprising, though God had 
smitten you dead and friends had been summoned to 
your funeral. Laden with sin, as all of us are who 
have arrived at mature years, that was just what might 
have been expected, and what would assuredly happen 
did not infinite mercy prevent. But did it never occur 
to you, how dreadful sin must appear in the sight of 
God, when even that young child of yours paid the 
awful penalty! The wages of sin is death. Did it 
never occur to you, that if there were nothing inconsis- 
tent in divine goodness and justice sending disease and 
death upon that little one, what must be your own 
condition, should you die impenitent and be summoned 
into the presence of the Judge with all your guilt upon 
your head'? Did it never occur to you, what additional > { 
misery shall be yours in the place of perdition, when i j 
you remember there, that you have a darling child in > o 
heaven, and that had you profited by the lesson which \ j, 



CONSOLATION. 



241 



its premature death was intended to teach, you might 
yourselves have been with it, and with the other 
glorified inhabitants, singing the high praises of our 
God? By the memory of that child so dear to you; 
by the value of your own immortal souls which are 
in danger of perishing; by the terrors of the day of 
judgment, when each one of us must give an account of 
himself unto God; and by the precious blood of Christ 
which cleanseth from all sin, I beseech you now to 
repent and to accept the overtures of divine compassion. 
Mercy there is for you still, much as you have 
hitherto hardened your hearts and despised the chastise- 
ments of Jehovah. Flee, without delay, to the 
Shepherd and Bishop of your souls, and surrender 
yourselves freely unto Him. Then it will be in your 
power to say, with the bereaved Shunammite, "It is 
well;" and also to adopt the language of David, with 
reference to his dead son— "I shall go to him, but he 
shall not return to me." 



A WORD TO IRRELIGIOUS PARENTS. 
Rev. Dr. Russell, Dundee. 

Are not irreligious parents, solemnly admonished by 
what is, said of their deceased infant offspring, to seek 
deliverance through the same atonement and resur- 
rection, which have opened to the latter the kingdom 
of heaven? What a mercy, if the death of the child 
prove the life of the parent ; by leading the latter 



242 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

to seek for consolation, where alone it can be had! 
And, oh ! what a blessing, when, after wearying them- 
selves seeking rest, and finding none, the eyes of the 
unhappy are opened to perceive the Well of life, and 
their ears to hear the melodious sounds of that message, 
which calms the alarm occasioned by guilt, and soothes 
the sorrows of the afflicted sufferer. It is the gospel 
alone which at once brings us to God, and, as it were, 
restores to us our friends. 

How dreadful the thought, when properly realized, 
that if bereaved unbelieving parents continue strangers 
to the power of the gospel, they and their children are 
separated for ever ! Without a change of mind you 
cannot go to them; and think of having a part of your- 
self, and a part so dear to you now in remembrance, 
for ever fixed far from you, beyond the impassable gulf, 
if you do not embrace the gospel. Think of being kept, 
by your unbelief and unholiness, from enjoying their 
bliss. Think, and be entreated to come to the Saviour, 
through whom alone you can meet the departed in 
glory. 



A WARNING TO UNBELIEVING PARENTS. 
Rev. Dr. John Gumming, London. 

To unbelieving and unconverted parents, the death of 
their infant speaks in solemn and impressive tones. 
Those parents whose hearts dilate only with this world's 
vanities and follies, and not with that living peace 



CONSOLATION". 243 

which God can give, are summoned by their best feel- 
ings to the Cross. Though they are guilty of violating 
God's law, and yet more in refusing Christ's gospel, 
their infants, if lost during the period of infancy, are 
not suffering the consequences of their parent's guilt; 
they rest from their tears, they are snatched from the 
contagion of their company. Here is mercy to their 
souls as well as mercy to their bodies. Their infants 
are in perennial peace; but if the parents die unsaved, 
unsanctified, untransformed, unrenewed, a yawning 
chasm must separate them from their infants for ever 
and ever. Theirs will be the joy, but yours, uncon- 
verted reader, must be the sadness ; theirs the blessing, 
but yours for ever the conscious and consuming curse. 
No interchange of love shall ever cross the gulf that 
j severs you. The stroke that severs you in time severs 
you in eternity also. 



APPEAL TO PARENTS. 

Rev. William Bathgate, Kilmarnock. 

Christian parent, bereaved of an infant-child, one 
word of appeal to you. Sore was your heart in the 
sad hour which struck the departure, to another home 
and bosom, of your darling child. Though seasons 
may have come and gone, though years of vicissitude 
! may have fled since you kissed for the last time the 
infant-clay in its snow-white dress, or heard the first 
clod fall relentlessly on the coffin which contained the 



244 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

pride of your heart, the tear still starts, and the lip 
still quivers, over the name and image of your beloved 
infant. Sorrow not for him. He sports on the other 
bank of the J ordan, ready to hail you as you rise from 
the troubled river. He tunes his infantine harp to 
give you a gladsome welcome to the mansions above. 
Wish him not "back again," for the wish is unkind 
as well as vain. Comfort yourself with the assurance 
that you "shall go to him." Your child is not among 
strangers. The angels wait on him. The Saviour 
carries him in His bosom. Never was he so much at 
home. He has the blessed fortune to advance beneath 
the care and education of heaven. He is in the train 
of the blessed Saviour, for whose glorious appearing 
you daily look. O let your affections be fixed on the 
heavenly world. The Great Spirit will not charge you 
with idolatry should you quicken your pace to glory 
because your departed child wearies for your coming. 
God smilingly looks on the reunion of sire and son. 

Christless parent, bereaved of an infant-child, what 
shall we say to you? It is well even with the spirit of 
your little one. This is a gratifying, gladdening truth, i 
even to a parent bound for a dread futurity. But, then, 
though you are welcome to all the consolation which 
such a truth is fitted to impart, does not the truth flash 
across your benighted soul a terrible suggestion? O, - 
see you not that if you die Christless as you are living - 
Christless, your little one and you shall never meet. 
Should it often watch for its mother's spirit emerging 
with a song of victory from the billows of the Jordan, t 



CONSOLATION. 



24:5 



i it shall watch in vain. Should it on the mornino- of 
) judgment recognize its mother's face and hold aloft its 
tiny hands, it shall hold them up in vain. Ah ! be- 
reaved mother, you have drunk the bitterest of earth's 
cups. Death tore from you the idol of your heart. 
But, continue Christless, remain unsaved, and you 
will see your child rising in glory, while you yourself 
are sinking into hell. Can you stand that prospect? 
Take your infant's Saviour as your Saviour. Rend not 
the heart of the soul-loving and soul-saving Jesus by 
continuing unsaved, and constraining Him to bid you 
depart far from your child, and far from Himself. 



THE DYING CHILD. 
Eev. Br. Alexander Fletcher, Londox. 

The following observations are taken from the annual 
Christmas sermon preached to the young, in Finsbury 
Chapel, London, December 25, 1858, the last but 
one of that long and deeply-interesting series of dis- 
courses, which this "Prince of Children's Preachers" 
delivered : — 

My beloved young friends, how precious is Christ ! 

There is a spectacle I should like each one to see a 

holy child on the borders of heaven, who is on her 
dying bed. Your beloved teachers have often seen 
that sight, and I have often seen it; and oh ! how my 
heart has been touched, touched with love, touched 



246 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



with wonder, touched with thankfulness ! I tell you, 
the loveliest sight upon earth is a young child of God 
who is on her dying bed. Don't talk to me of the 
courts of kings, the wonders of the Crystal Palace, or 
of the bright gems and jewels which adorn the British 
crown. Don't talk to me of earthly crowns, pomp, 
and splendours; the most beautiful sight on earth is a 
holy child dying in the arms of Christ. What does 
the Child say? Just listen a little. She cannot speak 
loud, her voice is feeble. What does she say ? — 

u Jesus is precious to my soul, 
My transport and my trust; — " 

Wait a little till she recover herself: — 

" Jewels to me are gaudy toys, 
And gold is sordid dust." 

Her mother supposes her gone; she has the marks of 
death upon her countenance. Her eyes brighten with 
hope ; there is a little convulsive flicker on her coun- 
tenance smiling with joy. She utters that one word, 
"Precious Jesus!" and breathes her last. There is a 
company of angels at her bedside to convey her to 
heaven. If any of you die young, as some of you no 
doubt will, may such be your death; may you die in 
peace, die in triumph, in the arms of that Jesus who 
is so precious — "the unspeakable Gift !" 



The following is the closing paragraph of the last 
Christmas sermon Dr. Fletcher preached in Finsbury 



CONSOLATION. 247 

Chapel, to about 4000 young people, on December 25, 
i 859. Subject—" The garments of salvation : "— 

One word, my beloved young friends, and I have 
done. Christ has given me a sweet word to utter in 
your ear ; then you will say, that when you left Fins- 
bury Chapel, you heard good tidings of great joy from 
the lips of the minister. In the name of Christ, I have 
to say this to you: "Look unto Me, my daughter ; look 
unto Me, my son; look unto Me, ye teachers; look unto 
Me, and be ye saved. If you will only look to Me; if 
you will only ask Me to save you, I will not wait till 
to-morrow's sun; I will save you now; I will send you 
saved from this chapel, and enable you to commence the 
journey to heaven, and I shall be at heaven's gate ready 
to receive you, and you shall dwell with Me in My 
heavenly inheritance. Look unto Me, and be ye saved, 
for I am God; I cannot lie; I am God, I cannot deceive, 
for I am Love. Look unto Me, and be ye saved." Let 
each one now say, "Lord Jesus, save me: bring forth 
the best robe, and put it on me." Amen and amen. 



ENLARGED INTELLIGENCE OF A GLORIFIED 
INFANT. 

Rev. Dr. A. Fletcher. 

Has it never struck you, my young friend— the glorious 
change which is effected upon the mind of an infant, 
the moment its disembodied spirit is admitted among 
Uhe holy and intelligent citizens of the new Jerusalem? 



248 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



I have often thought of it with surprise and delight. 
In one instant, there is a greater influx, a greater 
communication of light into its glorified understanding, 
than all the accumulated light which glowed with 
splendour, for many years, in the mind of the greatest 
philosojDher, who has added lustre to his country, to his 
species, to the world. All the experienced Christians 
and divines, whom that dear babe has left behind it, 
are as much behind it in the degree of their knowledge, 
and in the enlargement of their capacity, as they are 
behind it in place. Heaven does not exceed this w^orld 
more in its grandeur and glory, than this glorified 
infant does the greatest, the wisest, and the best of 
human beings, living in this vale of tears. 

0, how much this should reconcile pious parents to 
the departure of their dear babes from a world of 
ignorance and of sufiering, to a land of unclouded 
intelligence and unceasing enjoyment ! It is truly 
gratifying to hear religious fathers and mothers, whose 
infants have been removed from them by death, thus ex- 
pressing themselves: "We have sent before us three of 
our infant offspring to our Father's house, to the Canaan 
which w T e love, and where w^e hope to rejoin our chil- 
dren; and in their society to bless and magnify that 
Saviour to whom we dedicated them in baptism, and to 
wmom we commended them in their dying moments; 
yes, in their dying moments, when they struggled with 
an enemy of whom they never heard ; and when they 
were encircled by the arms of a loving Redeemer, whom 
they never knew.'* 



CONSOLATION. 



249 



LETTER FRO 31 DR. FLETCHER. 

The foregoing passage is taken from one of the first 
of the numerous little volumes by Dr. Fletcher, for 
the benefit of the young — published nearly forty years 
before his death — entitled " A Spiritual Guardian for 
Youth." The following is an extract from a letter 
addressed by him to a devoted friend in Glasgow 
(J. W. A.), on the death of a child, only seven months 
before he was himself called to take part in the minis- 
tries of the JSew Jerusalem : — 

I was scarcely prepared to receive the communication 
this morning with the Mack edges. Before opening 
it, I saw the contents; and, what was the announce- 
ment? It was this — that your dear child had been 
called to heaven, to take her place, with her beloved 
brother (she never saw on earth) amid the countless 
shining throng of departed saints, and the myriads of 
the angelic hosts, who minister with ineffable delight 
before the throne of the Great Jehovah. 

She was a lovely babe, a most pleasing flower to look 
upon. But now her loveliness excels the beauty of the 
morning sky, and the splendour in which her glorified 
spirit is arrayed, surpasses the glory of the firmament 
with its innumerable orbs of light. 

You cannot conceive the blessedness and glory to the 
enjoyment of which your departed babes are exalted 
in the immediate presence of the Great King, in the 
celestial city. 

I have a lively remembrance of the smile which 

R 



250 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



played upon the cheek, and sparkled in the eve of 
your dear daughter when she was brought into the 
room at the time of our morning devotions. Oh ! with 
what seraphic smiles she will meet her beloved parents, 
when they pass through the pearly gates of the New 
Jerusalem ! 

I sympathize with you most deeply. But you have 
the sympathy of One who sticketh closer than a brother. 
Lean, lean upon the arm of gracious Omnipotence ! 
— Always yours most faithfully, 

ALEX. FLETCHER 

London, Feb. 21, I860. 



REV. DR. ALEXANDER WAUGH, LONDON. 

The Revs. Dr. Hay and Dr. Belfrage, the highly 
qualified biographers of Dr. Waugh, referring to his 
consolatory epistles addressed to bereaved parents, 
justly observe: — 

In reading his letters, it was felt that they came 
from the heart of sympathy, nay, that the comforts they 
presented were drops from the Balm of Gilead: they 
were singularly suited to the nature and severity of 
the trial. He laboured to evince that religion had 
power to lift the heaviest pressure from the heart, to 
brighten the gloomiest prospect to the eye, and to 
surround the loneliest couch with ministering spirits 
of mercy. 

To a bereaved mother he thus writes: — 

The God of mercy, whose bosom is the dwelling- 



CONSOLATION. 



251 



place of pity, support your sinking spirits under the 
pressure of this very heavy and unlooked-for trial! 
Remember, my dear friend, that the Lord may pluck 
the fairest flower in your garden or mine without 
asking our leave. He who grudged not His only- 
begotten Son, at the call of our salvation, is certainly 
entitled to the humble and ready surrender of whatever 
we deem precious, when His providence makes the 
demand. Could our tenderest sympathy effectually 
soothe your distressed mind, your mind should be 
soothed ere these lines are put into your hand • but our 
gracious Redeemer hath assured you, that in all the 
afflictions of His people He Himself is afflicted; and 
His sympathies are ever under the regulation of infinite 
wisdom. Let this minister consolation to your broken 
spirit. You have an additional reason, now, to long 
to be in heaven, where you will see your dear child 
possessed of angelic knowledge, but still retaining the 
simplicity of the child. Plead with God that He may 
fill the vacuity in your heart, not with any other 
fleeting earthly good, but with Himself, as your all- 
sufficient portion, over which disease and death have 
no power. 

To a bereaved friend in India he writes as follows : — 
There is not a view you can take of the Divine 
character which may not be brought to bear upon your 
hearts for consolation and submission. Our God is 
Sovereign, and we ought to shut our mouths, and, in 
silence, bow down before Him. He might see the 
storm of temptations arising in the East, and, in 



252 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



fatherly kindness, hide the tender plant in the earth, 
to be brought forth in the peaceful morning of the 
resurrection, unbroken and unblighted by the tempest. 
He might see, in the hearts of His beloved parents, 
affections and partialities growing which were encroach- 
ing on His right to the supreme place in the soul, and, 
to save the parents, find it necessary to take the son 
to Himself. He is now making trial whether you can 
live on God alone, as your all-sufficient portion, and 
saying, " Am I not to you in place of ten sons ? Did 
I freely give My only-begotten and best-beloved Son, 
at the call of your necessities, and will you grudge your 
dear son, at the call of My sovereignty and wisdom, 
and to answer an important and gracious purpose 
connected with your eternal welfare, which you cannot 
now see 1 Suffer your beloved child to come unto Me, 
and forbid him not." The gracious temper of his 
renewed heart will flourish better in the heavenly 
Paradise than in India. You have now an additional 
argument to set your hearts on things above. Prepare 
to meet him, elevated to a more stable throne than 
that on which the aged patriarch was called to meet 
his darling son at Memphis. 

The following account of an affecting incident was 
communicated by a sorrowing mother to one of Dr. 
Waugh's family : — 

The last time I saw your dear father was on the 2d 
of April, 1827. Affliction had entered our dwelling; 
he heard of it, and came to administer consolation. 
Looking on my dear dying babe for some moments 



CONSOLATION". 



253 



with much interest, lie said (for I shall never forget 
the affecting scene), "We will approach the Throne:" 
and, amongst many, many striking thoughts, in his 
most impressive prayer, the following sank deeply into 
a mother's heart:—" Our Father and our God, if it be 
Thy will, spare this beloved child, and restore him to 
his now sorrowing mother; but if Thou hast not so 
willed, may the unspeakable happiness be hers of 
knowing and believing that he is removed from her 
afflicted bosom into the sympathising bosom of his 
Father and his God." After concluding a prayer 
which might have dropped from the lips of him who 
leaned on the bosom of Christ, he turned to me with 
one of those looks of kindness which, I had almost 
said, he only could give, and said, " Take comfort, my 
dear lassie; for if this dear boy is spared, I feel assured 
it will be for a blessing; and if he be removed, yours 
will be the unspeakable happiness of knowing that you 
were honoured to nurse an heir of glory. Yes, my 
beloved friend, he has a father on earth, and a Father 
in heaven; but you will be his only recognised mother 
in heaven, to all eternity."* 



THESE LITTLE ONES. 
Rev. J. Baldwin Brown, B.A., London. 
These little ones ! Not angels, then ; on the other 
hand, not children of the devil, but nurslings of Christ. 

* Memoir of the Eev. Alexander Waugh, D.D. Edinburgh- 
W. Oliphant & Co. 



254 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



"Take it, and bring it up for Me." I have no call to 
enter here into curious doctrinal discussions as to the 
natural estate of young children. Blessed be God, their 
estate in Christ has become a spiritual estate, and all 
their destiny has passed under the rule of His redeeming 
love. ... I turn to the God -man, who gathered 
the infants round Him, and took them in His arms, 
and blessed them, and said, "Suffer the little children to 
come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the 
kingdom of heaven." Gladder was He, perhaps, at that 
moment, as the little ones clustered round His knee 
and pressed to His heart, than through His whole pil- 
grimage of sorrows. As the pure fresh morning air, 
in which the rosy flush is glowing, and on which the 
meadows have flung their dewy sweets, must the balmy 
breath of these little ones have played on the Saviour's 
strained and weary heart. Unselfish, unworldly, un- 
careful, unf earful, unenvious, ungrasping, unconscious, 
innocent ! What a garden of flowers is here, with the 
morning light playing upon it, and the air alive with 
song ! Take heed that ye despise it not. It is the 
garden where, in the early light, you may meet the 
Master. He is abroad in it betimes, and here you 
may learn His deepest thoughts, and hear His wisest 
and most lovely words : " Except ye be converted, and 
become as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom 
of heaven." 

Little children. The whole force of the words is 
here. They soon learn the battle-cries of our conflicts, 
and shape their puppets after the likeness of our follies 



CONSOLATION. 



255 



and sins. But little children are Christ's own nurs- 
lings. They love, and trust, and give, after the fashion 
that reigns in heaven. Love is their sunlight ; they 
ask for nothing but to bask in it. There is no glow 
for them when that sun in the home is clouded ; there 
are no clouds for them when that sun in the home is 
unveiled. They have no possessions which they do 
not increase by sharing. Give a little one the gift it 
longs for, and straightway it toddles off in its glee to 
share it with its friend. Their only idea of having is 
sharing, till you have taught them a darker lesson. 
The very birds trust not more joyously the bountiful 
hand of the Father which is over them all. " Never 
mind," said a little one once to a father who had his 
full share of the burdens and struggles of life, and who 
was lamenting to her that he was too poor to gratify 
some desire which she had expressed—" never mind, 
papa, you have enough to go on with." Yes, I thought, 
when I heard it, " Out of the mouth of babes and suck- 
lings Thou hast ordained strength, and perfected praise/' * 



GERMS OF IMMORTALITY. 

Rev. Dr. John Cumming. London. 

Christianity alone looks with sympathy on infants, 
loves them more than angels, provides for their future 

* The Home Life : in the Lighi, of its Divine Idea. By James 
Baldwin Brown, B.A.. Minister of ClaylancTs Chapel, London. 
London : Smith, Elder, & Co. 1866. 



-56 WORDS OP COMFORT. 

state, and plants in the sorrowing hearts of those who 
have lost them bright hopes of restored union and 
communion in glory. Christianity takes the infant 
close to her mother-bosom, spreads over it the warm 
wing of love, sprinkles on its bright brow waters from 
that river whose streams make glad the city of our 
God, and gives utterance to the deep sympathies of her 
heart in these words,— « Suffer little children to come 
unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kin*- 
dom of heaven." Babes are not too insignificant in 
her thoughts. Her Incarnate One controls the exalted 
heirarch beside the throne, and also stoops to teach and 
bless an orphan child. Never did He who spake as never 
man spake breathe amorebeautifulortouchingthought, 
or bequeath to mourning mothers bereaved of their in- 
fants a more precious legacy, than when He rebuked the 
stern frowns which His disciples cast on the mothers 
that crowded round Him with their babes, and took 
up the unconscious infants in His arms, and blessed 
them, and said, "Suffer little children to come unto 
me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of 
heaven." Whosoever may undervalue these germs of 
immortality— these folded buds of promise— these ten- 
ants of earth in training for heaven— the Son of God 
does not. He spreads over them the shield of His 
power, and covers them with the feathers of His win* 
He saw immortality beam from their countenances— 
in their bosoms His ear heard the beatings of a life 
that can never die— and capacities which all the 
treasures of time and earth cannot fill, disclosed them- 



CONSOLATION. 



257 



selves to the eye of Hira to whom the most secret 
structure of mind and body is thoroughly unveiled. 
It is relation to eternity that makes the feeblest strong 
and the smallest great. 

These infant buds, that seem nipt on earth, are 
merely removed to heaven, there to unfold themselves 
in everlasting bloom. Nature leaves them pining upon 
earth, but grace takes them in her gentle hand, wraps 
them in her warm bosom, and wafts them away to the 
better land. 

THE JOY OF INFANTS IN HEAVEN. 
Dr. Gumming. 

The sacred penman states that the eighth Psalm refers 
to that period when Christ shall reign from sea to sea 
— all rebellious elements being laid prostrate, and 
creation clothed afresh with more than its pristine 
holiness, and beauty, and bliss. Amid the anthem- 
peal of praise that rises up to Him from the redeemed 
earth, the Psalmist hears infant treble, beautiful and 
welcome in the rich diapason : " Out of the mouth of 
babes and sucklings." Some of the sweetest hymns 
which shall be heard in the millennial era, will be in- 
fant hymns ; amid the harmony that rolls around the 
throne, will be melodies by infant voices, expressive of 
the gratitude and joy of full infant hearts. How pre- 
cious is the truth, that parents, if saints of God, shall 
join in the songs of heaven with their departed babes, 
who have already struck the key-note, and wait for 
them to join with them. 



258 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



There is something pleasing in the thought, that 
every infant that you lose is a link that binds you to 
the grave, on the one hand, and a link also that binds 
you to eternity on the other. A portion of yourself 
has taken possession of the tomb, to remind you that 
you must lie down there. A soul that was related to 
yourself has taken possession of eternity, to remind you 
that you must enter there. Our bodies are, through our 
infants, in communion with the dust ; and our spirits, 
through theirs, with the everlasting throne. We are 
so disposed to strike the roots of our affections into 
this fading and fainting earth, that it becomes mercy 
on the part of God to send those chastisements, which 
loosen our affections from a world doomed to flame. 

Each infant that we lose is a tie (holy and happy 
truth !) less to bind us to this world, and a tie more 
to bind our hearts to that better world wmere our 
infants have preceded us. It is thus God gradually 
loosens the tree before it falls. Death thus loses half 
its pain before it overtakes us. Happy truth — do we 
realise it 1 Happy lesson, if we feel it ! Good and 
gracious is that Father, who thus preaches to His 
people from the infant's bier, when they will not learn 
the lesson which they need from His ambassadors in 
the pulpit ! * 

* Infant Salvation; or, All Saved that Die in Infancy. By 
J ohn Cumming, D.D. London : Arthur Hall & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



259 



THE FLOWERS OF PARADISE. 

Rev. Dr. Thomas Guthrie, Edinburgh. 

Heaven is greatly made up of little children — sweet 
buds that have never blown, or which death has plucked 
from a mother's bosom to lay on his own cold breast, 
just when they were expanding, flower-like, from the 
sheath, and opening their engaging beauties in the 
budding time and spring of life. "Of such is the 
kingdom of heaven." How soothing these words by 
the cradle of a dying infant ! They fail like balm drops 
on our bleeding heart, when we watch the ebbing of 
that young life, as wave after wave breaks feebler, and 
the sinkiDg breath gets lower and lower, till with a 
gentle sigh, and a passing quiver of the lip, our sweet 
child leaves its body lying like an angel asleep, and 
ascends to the beatitudes of heaven and the bosom cf 
its God. Perhaps God does with His heavenly garden 
as we do with our own. He may chiefly stock it from 
the nurseries, and select for transplanting what is yet in 
its young and tender age — flowers before they have 
bloomed, and trees ere they begin to bear. 

The child who is seated on the shoulders of a man 
sees further than the man himself; an infant standing 
on the top of a mountain very much further than a 
giant at its base; and even so, the lisping babe, whom 
Jesus has taken from a mother's bosom to His own, 
excels in science the profoundest of philosophers, and 
knows more of divinity than the greatest of divines. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



In heaven we shall see as we are seen, and know as we J 
are known; there "the light of the moon shall be as | 
the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be 
sevenfold."* 



THE RAGGED SCHOOL BOY. 
Eev. Dk. Guthkie. 

The Eev. Dr. Guthrie of Edinburgh has edited an 
interesting narrative, entitled "Lost and Found - a 
Sketch of Sandy Eobertson, a Bagged School Boy" 
The youthful scholar, after having become the subject 
of divine grace, and while upon his death-bed, niani- 
ested a tender anxiety in the spiritual condition of 
his mother, who had lived a sinful and miserable life. 
Ine following episode, as given by the narrator, will 
be read with interest :— 

Sandy often implored his mother to seek the kingdom 
■of heaven; and one day, telling us of a visit to him by 
the Eev. James Eobertson of tfewington, whose con- 
versation and prayers he enjoyed much, said, "And 0 
haw nice he spoke to my mother. On going away he 
said to her, Now, mistress, before I go I will tell 
you a story. There was a man had a flock of sheep, 
which he wished to remove from one field to another 
and better pasture. There was one sheep refused to 
go, ami ran hither and thither. The man did not stop 
to follow that sheep, to drive and force it through the 

-...If 6 ' m E ' 6kie1 ' ™ ustl ' a ted in a series of Discourses 

b, .homas Guthne, D.D. Edinburgh : Adam & Charles Black! 



CONSOLATION. 



261 



gate. Xo, but he took her lamb, and laid it in his 
bosom, and carried it in his arms, and the sheep 
followed her bleating lamb, and was soon safe and 
happy in the sweet rich pasture." And then Sandy 
added, " Wasn't that grand I There was no mistaking 
that." 



IT IS WELL. 

Key. DR. Octaytus Winslow, Bath. 

44 And she answered, It is well.-'' (2 Kings iv. 26.) 

. Just at this juncture the household plant they loved 
;So fondly and nurtured so tenderly, whose unfolding 
beauty inspired such gladness and hope, sickened, 
drooped, and died. "And when the child was grown" 
says the simple, touching story, "it fell on a day that he 
went out to his father to the reapers. A nd he said unto 
his father, My head, my head! And he said to a lad, 
Carry him to his mother. And when he had taken him, 
and brought him to his mother, he sat on her knees till 
noon, and then died." What a withering of all their 
hopes ! what a crushing of all their expectations ! how 
anguished were now those parental hearts! and" how 
desolate that happy home, the shadows of which fall 
deeper and faster since the spirit that was its light is 
gone ! "He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down." 

With a mother's smitten heart the Shunammite 
woman hastened to the prophet Elisha at Mount 
Carmel, to relate her calamity and seek in his counsel 



262 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



a id sympathy direction and soothing in her affliction. 
With what frame of mind and with what words of grid 
does she approach the man of God? How does she 
deport herself in her sad bereavement? Does she 
upbraid him for promising her a son, or murmur at 
God for recalling him? Does she indulge in vain 
lamentations that a gift unasked, when it had become 
so lovely and precious, had been so early, so rudely, 
and so suddenly removed? Is there any indulgence in 
excessive grief, in fruitless regrets, in repining thoughts 
in rebellious words— aught that betrays opposition to 
God's will, that disputes His right, or that impeaches 
His wisdom, faithfulness, and love? Far, very far, > 
from this is the posture of the Shunammite. Listen to 
her reply to the question of the prophet's servant sent 
3 b 7 nis master to enquire of her welfare: "Is it well 

with thee? is it well with thy husband? is it well ivith 
the child f And she answered, It is well!" O, touch- 
ing picture of deep yet chastened sorrow! Lovely 
attitude of soul — meek, submissive — in the hour of 
keen anguish! The child was dead, and it was all 
winter now, but— It is well/ The hope of future years 
was extinguished, and it was all disappointment now, 
but— It is well! The "strong staff and the beautiful 
rod was broken," and the weight of years bowed them 
to the dust now, but— It is well! Could it be other- 
wise? The stricken parents knew that their covenant 
God "Himself had done it," and that it was well done. 
It was wise, it was righteous, it was even good, because 
He had done it. What moral sublimity invests this 



CONSOLATION. 



263 



picture of domestic bereavement'? What a study, were 
it the province of a human pencil to portray an attitude 
of soul so spiritual, so unearthly, almost divine! Has 
it no reflected image? Can we not find its copy? Yes ! 
death still reigns — bereavement still desolates — sorrow 
still has its home .in the human heart. But the same 
grace that formed this beautiful picture of holy sub- 
mission, of sweet, cheerful acquiescence in the will of 
God, that could say, when the loved one was smitten, 
It is well! still lives to produce the same holy and 
blessed fruit. If, dear reader, you are lying at God's 
feet, His afflicted, chastened child, gazing in calm, 
mute submission upon the wreck of human hopes, and 
gently whispering, "My God, my Father, it is well!" 
then your spirit is as this Shunammite's, and God 
fashioneth your hearts alike. 

THE SORROWING MOTHER. 

Sorrowing Mother! "It is well" with the child. The 
spirit has returned to God who gave it, and now com- 
munes with its Creator, of whose greatness, and wisdom, 
and glory it knows infinitely more than the profoundest 
philosopher or the holiest divine. It is safer and 
happier with its Father in heaven than with you on 
earth. And who can tell from what evil it is taken, and 
from what bitter anguish you are preserved, — anguish 
greater in his life than now wrings your heart in his 
death? He is gone where innocence has no snares, 
where there exist no temptations to beguile, and wmere 
no foes invade. Y our child may have stolen your heart 



264 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



from Jesus, who did not intend that His precious gift 
should supplant Himself in your love. It is well with 
him. And is it not well with you? The vacant place 
is occupied with a sympathising Saviour— the stricken 
heart turns to Him who smote it— and the ensnared 
and truant affections, severed from the idol they had 
worshipped, find their way back again to God. It; is 
well that your Heavenly Father has dealt with you 
thus. It is well that He condescends to instruct you, 
though it be by chastening, and . to heal your heart- 
wanderings, though it be by suffering. Twice gracious 
has thy God been to thee— gracious when He loaned 
the blessing— a little flower to gladden you awhile with 
its presence, and now to cheer you with its memory— 
and gracious in taking it away, transplanting it to a 
holier soil and sunnier skies, beneath whose influence 
its infantine faculties and young affections have ex- 
panded and ripened into more than an angel's intellect 
and a seraph's love. "It is well with the child.'' 

THE BEREAVED CHRISTIAN. 

Bereaved Christian, < ; It is well." God has smitten, 
and the stroke has fallen heavily. The blessing you 
thought you could the least spare, and would be the 
last to leave you, God thy Father has taken. Why 
has He done this? To shew you what He can be in 
your extremity. It may be difficult for faith, in the 
first moments of your calamity, to see how it can be 
well, or to acknowledge that it is really so. But b 
still, and wait the issue. Banish from vour mind every 



e 



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265 



hard thought of God, stifle in your breast every re- 
bellious feeling, suppress upon your lip every repining 
word, and bow meekly, submissively, mutely to the 
sovereign, righteous will of your Father. The blessings, 
like spring flowers blooming on the grave over which 
you weep, that will grow out of this affliction, will prove 
that God never loved you more deeply, was never more 
intent upon advancing your best interests, never thought 
more of you nor cared more for you, than at the 
moment when His dear hand laid your loved one low. 
Receive the testimony of one who has tasted, ay, has 
drank deeply, of the same cup of grief which your 
Father God now mingles for you. Let us drink it 
without a murmur. It is our Father's cup. As a 
father pitieth his children, so does He pity us e'en 
while He mingles and presents the draught. It is 
bitter, but not the bitterness of the curse ; it is dark, 
but not the frown of anger; the cup is brimmed, but 
not a drop of wrath is there ! O, wondrous faith that 
can look upon the beautiful stem broken; the lovely, 
promising flower, just unfolding its perfection, smitten; 
the toils and hopes of years, all, and in a moment, 
extinguished, and yet can say — "It is well!" Go, now, 
thou precious treasure! God will have my heart. 
Christ would not I should be satisfied with His gift of 
love, but that I should be satisfied vvith His love with- 
out the gift. "Thou only art my portion, O Lord." 
The world looks dreary, life has lost a charm, the heart 
is smitten and withered like grass, some of its dearest 
earthly affections have gone down into the tomb, but 

s 



^6 WORDS OF COMFORT. 



He vrho recalled the blessing is greater and dearer 
than the blessing, and is Himself just the same as when 
He gave it. J esus would be glorified by our resting in 
and cleaving to Him as our portion, even when the 
flowers of earthly beauty, and the yet more precious 
traits of spiritual comfort and consolation wither and. 
depart. Satan would suggest that we have sinned 
away our blessings and forfeited our comforts, and that 
therefore the Lord is now hiding His f ace from us, and 
m anger shutting up His tender mercies. But this is 
not really so. He is hiding the flowers, but not Him- 
self. In love to them He is transferring them to His 
garden in heaven; and in love to us He thus seeks to 
draw us nearer to His heart. He would have us knock 
at His door and ask for a fresh cluster. We cherish 
our blessings and rest in our comforts, and live upon 
our frames and feelings, and lose sight of, and forget 
Him. He removes them that we might be always 
coming to Him for more. 0, matchless love of Jesus ! 
— it is well.* 



THE BRIGHT EXCHANGE. 

Rev. Philip Bennett Powek, M.A. 

"Was that a place for this bright beam to stay? 
Could it have lived in that fierce swell and foam 9 
Look down! look round! thy heart will wisely say 
That here, indeed, thou'st found the sunbeam's HOME." 

"Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord,"— blessed 

*It is well. BrOctavius Window, B.D.London: J. R Shaw & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



267 



in whither, blessed in whence they have been taken 

blessed in what they have been taken to, blessed in 
what they have been taken from — blessed in reaching 
rest, and in escaping from unrest. How knowest thou 
from what thy child hath been delivered % how canst 
thou calculate what would have been the number and 
the force of its temptations? how canst thou tell in 
what great jeopardy may have been its spiritual life t 
Fierce may have been its bufferings ; bitter its struggle 
for existence; hard its throes of body; wild the tossings 
of its mind; and now it is safely sheltered from all 
this— with even the possibilities of such things it hath 
no more to do. And when seen from God's own 
heights, how wild, how fierce appear the foam and 
swell of life ! To know the dangers of the world's 
unrest, we must look clown upon it from the Eest of 
the Lord. 

And so, poor mourner, wilt thou not find it in thine 
heart to rejoice as well as weep over the sunbeam that 
hath gone; when thou feelest thy heart sore, missing 
thy child on earth, wilt thou not ascend in heart, and 
rejoice with thy child in a place far better than 
the earth; wilt thou not confess that it hath found 
its truest home— the home, of which all earthly 

homes are but broken and imperfect types that it 

hath passed from a tarrying to a resting place from 

the wild throes of tempest life, to that calm sphere 
of peaceful life, where all such things are known no 
more 1 



203 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



HEAVENLY RELATIONSHIP. 

Rev. P. B. Power, M.A. 

"Nay!" said the rich man's friend, "thy flower hath found 
A home with One who well its value knows; 
5 Tis planted now in rich and royal ground, 
And still to every breeze its precious perfume throws." 

Remember, poor mourner, that the child that hath 
left thy home hath found another home. Thy little 
one is not homeless; doth not that thought in itself 
pour oil and balm upon thy heart ? Think no more 
of the isolation and loneliness of the body's grave, bub 
think of the companionship and joyousness of the 
spirit's home. Life, love, joy, warmth, all cluster 
themselves about the name of home,— let them cluster 
in thy thoughts around thy child who is at home. O 
what loving care and thought were spent upon thy 
little one! and oh, bitter grief! thou canst spend them 
now no more; the departed one is out of the reach of 
thy ministry; that thou canst no longer do anything 
for it is part of thy bitter woe. But think! "Thy 
flower hath found a home with One, who well its value 
knows." A voice softer than thine whispers to it, 
hands more gentle than thine minister to it, eyes more 
loving than thine look upon it; if thou lovest as a 
parent should love, be content to be outdone; thou art 
conquered in life's strife only by beings of another 
world, and thy child reapeth the victory of thy defeat; 
thou wouldst have done much for it had it lived— they 
do more now that it is dead; thou wouldst have set 



CONSOLATION. 



269 



great price upon it had it tarried with thee here — a 
price far greater still is set upon it by Him that has 
taken it to Himself.* 



DEATH OF DR. KITTO'S YOUNGEST CHILD. 

The Rev. Dr. Eadie, in his interesting and suggestive 
Life of Dr. Kitto, writes in the following terms regard- 
ing this remarkable man, while in the furnace of afflic- 
tion, and in the dark hour of bereavement : — 

His youngest child, Henry Austin, died. This was 
the first entrance of death into his dwelling ; and every 
parent knows the pang of a first bereavement. Ay, 
though it be an infant that is taken away, when yet 
unable to prattle, the new sorrow pierces and lacerates 
the parental heart. Kitto's softened spirit bowed to 
the chastisement. He loved his children dearly, and 
never, with all his solitary study and toil, "hid his 
face from his own flesh." 

This child had wound itself round his heart. His 
earliest intimation to Mr. Oliphant is April 12, 1853 : — 

"A beloved child of mine has been dying, and now 
it lies here dead. God took it from us on Monday 
morning, and while I bow in submission to this stroke, 
knowing it is from my Father's hand, my heart is very 
sore. During the years that I have had a home of my 
own, death has not been permitted to enter, and its 

* The Lost Sunbeam. By Eev. P. B. Power, M.A., Incumbent 
of Christ Church, Worthing. London : John F. Shaw & Co. 



270 



WORDS OP COHFOBT. 



presence is, from its strangeness, the more grim and 
terrible. During that long time, I have indeed been 
tried with many griefs; but this form of trial, the 
hardest of all to bear, has been spared to me. Now, 
this also has come, and finds my heart very weak. May 
the Lord strengthen it for me, and enable me in due 
time to learn what lesson it is that He means to teach 
me by this new stroke of His rod ! 

" It was but a little child, thirteen months old. It 
is difficult to realise the idea that he has not fallen 
without the will of God. It is hard to learn, but his 
mother is learning it, and so am I, and I feel that all 
real comfort, under a trial like this, must be rooted in 
that conviction. I am now become, for the first time, 
the owner of a grave— all the land in this wide world 
that I possess. This afternoon I shall be constrained 
to consign to it the remains— still beautiful in death— 
of this dear little child, into whose bright eyes I have 
for so many months been daily looking for matter of 
hope or fear. May the Lord strengthen in the hour 
now near, and make realities to my own heart the 
comforts I have sometimes endeavoured to impart to 
others !" 

Those comforts which he had dispensed to other 
mourners, had been no mere commonplaces, no trite 
courtesies, no empty or unavailing regrets. He did 
not only throw his flower on the sepulchral urn, but 
he touched and stayed the bleeding heart with his 
" bundle of myrrh." « When," *he writes in reference 
* Daily Bible Illustrations. Vol. IV., p. 228. 



CONSOLATION. 



271 



to the death of the widow of Zarepliath's only son, "we 
behold that a child so dear — 

. 4 Like a flower crusht with a blast is dead, 
And ere full time hangs down his smiling head/ 

how many sweet interests in life, how many hopes for 
the time to come, go clown to the dust with him ! The 
purest and most heart-felt enjoyment which life offers 
to a mother in the society of her little child, is cut off 
for ever. The hope — the mother's hope, of great and 
good things to come from this her son, is lost for her, 
< The live ccal that was left,' and which she had reck- 
oned that time would raise to a cheerful name, to warm 
her home, and to preserve and illustrate the name and 
memory of his dead father, is gone out — is quenched 
in darkness. The arms which so often clung caressingly 
around her, and whose future strength promised to "be 
as a staff to her old age, are stiff in death. The eyes 
which glistened so lovingly when she came near, now 
know her not. The little tongue, whose guileless prat- 
tle had made the long days of her bereavement short, 
is now silent as that of the c mute dove.' Alas ! alas ! 
that it should ever be a mother's lot to close in death 
the eyes of one whose pious duty, if spared, should be 
in future years to press down her own eyelids. This 
is one of the great mysteries of life, to be solved only 
thoroughly, only fully to our satisfaction, in that day, 
when passing ourselves the gates of light, we behold 
all our lost ones gather around our feet." * 

* Life of John Kitto, D.D., F.S.A. By John Eadie, D.D., LL.D. 
Edinburgh: Win, Oliphant & Co. 



272 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE BLACKSMITH AND HIS WIFE AT "WEE 
DAVIE'S " COFFIN. 

Rev. Db, Fobman Macleod, Glasgow. 
The little black coffin was brought to the smith's the 
night before the funeral. When the house was quiet 
Davie was laid in it gently by his father. Jeanie' 
stood by and assumed the duty of arranging with care 
the white garments in which her boy was dressed, 
wrappmg them round him, and adjusting the head as 
f to sleep in her own bosom. She brushed once more 
the golden ringlets, and put the little hands in their 
right p ace, and opened out the frills in the cap and 
removed every particle of sawdust which soiled the 
shroud. When all was finished, though she sTemed 
anxmus to prolong the work, the lid was put on the 
coffin, but so as to leave the face uncovered. Both 
were as silent as their child. But ere they retired to 
rest for the night, they instinctively went to take 
another ook. As they gazed in silence, side by side, 
the smith felt his hand gently seized by his wife" She 
played at first nervously with the fingers, until finding 
her own hand held by her husband, she looked into hi^ 
face witii an unutterable expression, and meeting his 
eyes so full of unobtrusive sorrow, she leant her head 
on Ins shoulder and said, « Willie, this is my last look 
o him on this side the grave. But, Willie, dear, you 
and me maun see him again, and, mind ye, no to palt; 
na, I canna thole that! We ken whaur he is, and we 



CONSOLATION. 



273 



maun gang till him. Noo, promise me — vow alang wi' 
me here, that, as we love him and ane anither, we'll 
attend mair to what's gude than we ha'e dune, that — 

0 Willie ! forgie me, for it's no my pairt to speak, but 

1 canna help it enoo, and just, my bonnie man, just 
agree wi' me— that we'll gi'e our hearts noo and for 
ever to our ain Saviour, and the Saviour o' our wee 
Davie!" These words were uttered without ever 
lifting her head from her husband's shoulder, and in 
low, broken accents, half-choked with an inward 
struggle, but without a tear. She was encouraged ^.i 
say this — for she had a timid awe for her husband — 
by the pressure ever and anon returned to hers from 
his hand. The smith spoke not, but bent his head 
over his wife, who felt his tears falling on her neck, as 
he whispered, "Amen, Jeanie! so help me, God!" A 
silence ensued, during which Jeanie got, as she said, 
" a gude greet," for the first time, which took a weight 
off her heart. She then quietly kissed her child and 
turned away. Thornburn took the hand of his boy 
and said, "Farewell, Davie, and when you and me 
meet again, we'll baith, I tak' it, be a bit different frae 
what we are this nicht!" He then put the lid on 
mechanically, turned one or two of the screws, and 
then sat down at the fireside to chat about the 
arrangements of the funeral as on a matter of business. 

After that, for the first time, William asked his wife 
to kneel down, and he would pray before they retired 
to rest. Poor fellow! he was sincere as ever man was; 
and never after till the day of his death did he omit 



274 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



tins "exercise," which once a day was universal in 
every family whose head was a member of the church; 
and I have known it continued by the widow when 
her head was taken away. But on this, the first night 
when the smith tried to utter aloud the thoughts of 
his heart, he could only say, " Our Father— !" There 
be stopped. Something seemed to seize him, and to 
stop his utterance. Did he only know how much was 
m these words, he possibly might have said more. As 
it was, the thoughts of the father on earth so minded 
iu knew not why, with those of the Father in heaven' 
that he could not speak. But he continued on his 
knees, and spoke there to God as he had never spoken 
before. Jeanie did the same. After a while they 
both rose, and Jeanie said, "Thank ye, Willie; it's a 
beautifu' beginning, and it wull, I'm sure, hae a braw 
ending." "It's cauld iron, Jeanie, woman," said the 
smith, " but it wull melt and come a' richt." * 



THE CROWN WITHOUT THE CONFLICT. 
Rev. R. h. Lundie, M.A., Liverpool. 
There are those who will read these lines that can o» 
back ten, twenty, forty years, and recall the time when 
a child was taken from them. It has left no record in 
the annals of the world : no more mark than the shinino- 
pebble that is thrown into the river, when the waters 

S fc Iahan 0 ?Co y ° rdS " ^ ^ = Zander 



CONSOLATION. 



275 



close over it for ever. Is there, then, no trace to he 
found beneath the heavens of that loved one? Go, ask 
the mother bereaved so long ago. There, in the old 
garden of a heart overgrown with many experiences, 
and shaded with many a sombre spray of ivy and many 
a weeping branch of cypress, flourish still the old 
memories of that cherished child. His winsome ways, 
his pleasant prattle, his sunny smile, his look of love, 
are all remembered still. These flowers of memory 
bloom as fresh as on the day after the little one was 
gathered home. The snows of winter may have fallen 
thick upon that mother's head, but touch the old chord, 
and it will vibrate true and tender as ever. Encourage 
her to speak upon this theme, and she will pour forth 
her recollections of her lost one, and will narrate to 
you the incidents of his sickness and his death with a 
minuteness and detail that will astonish any one who 
has not had or lost a child. We lately met a mother 
whose boy was taken from her more than thirty years 
ago, who told us, as the tear rose to her eye, that when 
she is looking after the affairs of her household, she 
sometimes comes upon his toys, and never without a 
flood of tenderest memories filling her heart. 

We train our children. But it is no less true that 
our children train us. They are meant by God as a 
means and occasion of much discipline for heaven. 
How they call out our purest and most unselfish 
affections: what new tenderness they pour into our 
hearts: how they humanize and soften the roughest 
nature ! And when taken from us, are they not like 



2/6 WORDS OF COMFORT. 



magnets to draw our heart « in +t,o +-u- 

»e, „hen tney bok „ p i» to tle „ se ™ <° 

<topled hand that beckons to then,, and to hear Til"'ee 
wee that ,v lisperf> from fc ^ «^ 

sr ^ Go :' tta - His ^ * 

and rf*«.S * n °T' . Forthe Ptoses of protection 
and of training, God is its so l e father 

You loved heaven before, bat your stake in it is 
deeper now, and your love for it is greater. Srhl 
jou have a son .hose lot is east in a distant land a bout 
Jnch you knew and cared but little before he Cent 

tl land tT " * ^ ^ ^ 

And ? v'o , 70U i read iQ refereDCe t0 * J°» retain. 
And if y ou meet with any one who has been there 
how eagerly do you question him about it. You h e' 
anot he h ld . ^ ^ ^ ^ - W 

Land. The Lord has taken him to the land of promise 
From the day he left you what a quickened 
you have had to learn about that land. What 1 
the mansions which my child inhabits? who are Ms 
companions ? what is their employment I and above 
all what * the way to that better Country « 

have not wT T ^ ^ ™* ^ « **"»g 
6 * aik6d 1D * ^ -use perhaps is not obscure 1 



CONSOLATION. 



277 



as regards your own soul why your child has been taken 
thither before you. I have known the shepherd when 
he failed to guide the sheep as he desired, take up her 
bleating lamb in his arms, and then with quick step the 
mother followed. I have known the Shepherd and 
Bishop of our souls try many plans to make a father 
and a mother enter the strait gate and walk in the 
narrow way. Prosperity was sent, and they forgot 
God: adversity followed, and they murmured that God 
had forgotten them. The discipline of j oy and of sorrow 
seemed alike ineffectual. At last the Shepherd gently 
laid His hand upon a lamb of their little nock ; I noticed 
that it was the brightest and the most cherished of them 
all. The parents struggled, but they could not keep 
their lamb. The Shepherd claimed it, gathered it in 
His arms and passed it through the gate of Zion. Then 
first the parents learned to look on that land as their 
home, and to seek that He who had folded their little 
lamb should be their Shepherd too; and I have heard 
them with chastened yet thankful hearts take up such 
words as these — 

" A magnet now to draw my heart on high, 
Is he who sweetly here my cares beguiled ; 
In heavenly treasure, O how rich am I, — 

One home contains my Saviour and my child." 

Your sorrow has taught you to sympathise as you 
never could before. When others suffered as you now 
suffer, the time was when their trial made no deep 
impression upon your heart. But now you will never 



278 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

be heard to say, "It is but a child." A door of entrance 
is opened for you to sorrowing hearts. You find your- 
self linked in a blessed companionship with those who 
like yourself, have children in heaven. Taught in God's 
own school, you have learnt, with a power that is 
amazing to yourself, to comfort those that are in trouble 
with the comfort wherewith you yourselves are com- 
mitted of God. You had been saying, as Lamech said 
of Noah, "this child shall comfort us;" while God was 
saymg "you shall comfort others," being yourselves 
comforted with the comfort, not of a living child on 
earth, but of a glorified child in heaven. Thus you 
may be a more useful tf & ^ 

child is taken from you, and usefulness, not pleasure, 
is what God's people are to labour for on earth 

You have meditated on all these themes of con- 
solation and on many more. You have realized the 
honour conferred upon you of having a ransomed child 
m heaven. And while the heathen, who was told 
.hat his son was dead, could say, "I knew that my son 
was mortal," you are able to say, "I know thai ; my 
son is immortal." Nevertheless, there are times when 
your sorrow seems stronger than your solace, and your 
eeb eness seems greater than your faith, and your 
lonely heart will only cry, "My child, my child-" 
You though a father, have yourself a Father, who 
taught you to love that child with such a love He 
knows how you miss and mourn him; and if you lean 
on Him, and look to Him, He will surely bring you 
peace. Wait, mourning parent, wait, and follow the 



CONSOLATION. 



279 



voice of the lamb as he is carried in the Shepherd's 
arms, and you shall see your child again. 

Finally, bereaved parent, thou mayest have children 
living still. Let the memory of him whose place is 
empty when they gather round thee, engage thee to 
give them each and to give them wholly to the Lord. 
And thou parent who hast never thus been tried, look 
round upon thine unbroken band with rejoicing, yet 
with trembling heart, and listen to the voice that says 
to thee in reference to each one of them — "Take this 
child and nurse it for me." Dedicate him to the Lord . 
so, if he lives, it will be better for thee and for him' 
Dedicate him to the Lord; thy child may die.* 



THE GOOD SHEPHERD'S CARE OF THE 
LAMBS OF THE FLOCK 

Rev. Dp.. Somerville, Edikbupgh. 

Jesus shows His care of the Young, by often gathering 
them home to glory. — Many die in youth. There are 
few families, indeed, whose number is unbroken. Not 
seldom, the greater part is in the other world. Perhaps 
there are no means of trial more common — no instru- 
ment of spiritual good more frequently wielded by our 
Heavenly Father, than the removal of children and 
young members of the family. It is thus that, by 
taking those dear objects, our gracious G-od draws our 

* Sunday Magazine, March, 1867. Edited by Thomas Guthrie, 
D.D. London: Strahan & Co. 



280 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



affections more powerfully to Himself, and calls upon 
us to think, with greater earnestness and frequency, of 
that spiritual state into which they have gone. And 
surely the removal of a young person is fitted to do 
this. It is a touching and an instructive scene. Here 
is a child, over whom a few months, or a few years, 
have passed. The parents hoped, in the fondness of 
their hearts, that it would be spared, and prove to 
them a comfort and a joy. They watched its opening 
thoughts and affections, and blessed God for the rich 
promise of excellence which it gave. But disease 
comes and assails its tender frame. The struggle for 
life goes on; and many and ardent are the prayers of 
the parents, that the Lord, if it be His holy will, would 
heal and preserve their beloved child. The disease, 
however, makes rapid and alarming advances. The 
cheek becomes pale and wan; the lips are dry and 
parched; the eye, still full of affection, is languid and 
dim ; and the little frame withers and shrivels under 
the power of the malady. The heart-strings of the 
parents are stretched till they are ready to break; all 
their feelings are most painfully excited; and their 
anxiety grows agonising. Every throb of the dying 
child penetrates and rends their heart. Is Christ then 
present? Yes. He sees the scene, and holds the child 
with His arm. His affection for it is unspeakably 
greater than that of the parents, and His interest in 
the little sufferer ineffably more deep and tender. 
"Why, then, does He not rebuke the disease? Why 
does not He, who raised the daughter of Jairus to life, 



CONSOLATION. 



281 



restore this child to its weeping parents] There are 
the best reasons for not doing so. That child's voice 
is wanted in heaven. Its guardian angels are waiting 
around its couch to convey its spirit to the abodes of 
bliss. The great Intercessor is saying, "Father, I will 
that this child behold my glory." The words are just 
uttered, when the liberated soul approaches, and Christ 
takes it to His bosom and fills it with eternal joy. O 
happy, happy child! The race was short, and the 
prize is won. The evils of time are escaped, and the 
glories of eternity are realised. The plant has been 
taken from the open field, where it was in danger of 
being destroyed, and put into the garden of God, there 
to afford eternal fruit. . . 

Be comforted when your children are removed. Their 
souls are immortal, and cannot die. If given to God, 
and blessed by Jesus, they enter into life, glory, and 
joy. Freed from sin, weakness, and all evil, they will 
learn the things of God with a rapidity of which 
we can form no conception. Suppose two children, 
both vessels of mercy. The one is taken to heaven 
in youth, and the other is spared till seventy years 
have passed over him. Which of these is the more 
favoured? The one in heaven has been instructed 
by Jesus Himself — has associated with patriarchs, 
prophets, apostles, and all the good — has held inter- 
course with holy angels, and obtained magnificent 
ideas of divine things. The other has been exposed 
to trials and temptations — has laboured, amidst much 
imperfection, to serve God, and has at last gained 

T 



282 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the victory through Christ that loved him. But when 
he enters heaven, how small is his knowledge compared 
with that of his celestial brother! Oh, my friends ! let 
us bear in mind that this world is but the infancy of 
our existence ! It is a scene of preparation for another 
— even an eternal state ! And if God, that gave us 
our children, calls them away, while He says of them, 
"X will be their Father and their God;" and if, in 
addition to His own sweet promise, He grants us 
evidence from their own lips that they love Christ, it 
becomes us to dry our falling tears, and to render unto 
God the highest and the most grateful thanks. For 
what can parents wish for themselves, what can they 
wish for then children, but just that when their days 
are closed, they should all be gathered into that blessed 
home, of which Jesus spake when He said, "In my 
Father's house are many mansions, and I go to prepare 
a place for you V * 



THE ILLNESS AND DEATH OF A BELOVED 
CHILD. 

Rev. Dr. George Lawsox, Selkirk. 

Lord, if thou shouldst grant me one of these two 
favours— either all the kingdoms of the world and 

* Sermon preached in Erskine Church, Glasgow, on occasion of 
the death of Jessie Burns, daughter of the Rev. John Macfarlane, 
LL.D. By Andrew Somerville, D.D., Foreign Mission Secretary 
to the United Presbyterian Church. 



CONSOLATION. 



283 



the glories of them, or the life of my Charlotte — I 
would not hesitate a single moment in the choice, 
although the kingdoms of the world were a thousand 
times more numerous, and the glories of them a thou- 
sand times greater than they are. And I would hesi- 
tate as little between her natural and her eternal life. 
O that my Charlotte may "live before Thee," whether 
she lives with me or be taken from me ! O give her 
health, or give her heaven! She will not be long 
with us — let her "be with Christ, which is far better." 

I will weep for Charlotte. Who will forbid me the 
consolation of tears'? I should think that I did her 
great injustice, did I not often weep for her. Dearly 
she loved me. Greatly did she deserve my love. But 
dearly as I loved her, what is my love to the love of 
that God, in whom I trust as my God, and the God of 
my seed? He does not give her that relief which I 
greatly wish; but He is infinitely wiser than I. . . 

O my Charlotte, dearly did I love thee when thou 
wast in health, and thou wast not ignorant of my 
tender affection. But neither thou nor I knew how 
much I loved thee. I have reason to think that God 
loved thee. That is enough. What we cannot do, 
God can do, and His thoughts of mercy are as much 
above our thoughts of mercy as the heavens are higher 
than the earth. 

Lord, my Charlotte is now like a lamb that has 
neither dam nor shepherd to take care of her; for all 
our care, all that friends, all that physicians can do, is 



284: 



WORDS OF COMFORT, 



nothing. Be Thou her shepherd, O Thou that gatherest 
the lambs with Thine arms, and carriest them in Thy 
bosom, that gently leadest those that are with young. 

Christ's kindness to the lambs of His flock is to be 
understood of His care of the young. His kindness 
to the ewes with young signifies His tender care of 
those who are loaded with distress. Has not my 
Charlotte both these claims to the compassion of Him 
who feeds His flock like a shepherd? She is a young 
disciple. She is loaded with trouble, and with trou- 
ble that excludes all possibility of benefit to her soul 
from men. All that we can do for her is to pray for 
her, in her helpless case. But to pray aright for her 
is to do much. At the voice of prayer God has often 
delivered men from death. When continual prayer 
was made by the church for Peter in the prison, an 
angel was sent to open the prison doors. Angels, 
though unseen by us, are still " ministericg spirits to 
them who shall be the heirs of salvation/' Who 
knows what angels, at the command of God, may do 
for my poor Charlotte! This, at least, they will do 
when her soul is released from the prison of her body: 
they will carry it into Abraham's bosom to be ever 
with the Lord. With what joy did she often hear me 
narrating stories of Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob, and 
Joseph and Elijah, and Elisha, and of Peter and Paul, 
and of Jesus Himself ! With what unknown trans- 
ports of pleasure will she be filled when she enters into 
such blissful society, and is herself one of them ! But can 
I indulge the cheering hope that my Charlotte is soon 



CONSOLATION. 



285 



to be a companion of angels, and of the spirits of the 
just made perfect 1 Yes, I will not renounce this hope. 

What God does must be well done. "All his works 
are judgment." Lord, I bow to Thy holy will. But 
Thou encouragest me to plead for mercy to the soul of 
my Charlotte, when her body is drawing near to the 
gates of the grave. I bring my little child to the 
gracious Redeemer, that He may bless her with the 
blessings of the kingdom of God. 

He laid His hands on the little children, and blessed 
them. How happy would the parents of these little 
children be, if they knew who Jesus was ! I ought to 
know better who Jesus is, and I know "whatsoever 
was written aforetime, was written for our learning:, 
that we, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, 
might have hope." This story concerning the little 
children, was written for the learning especially of 
parents, that they might have comfort and hope in the 
life or in the death of these little ones, whom God has 
enabled them to commit into the hands of the gracious 
Redeemer. 

Jesus is still near enough to me, if I can but believe 
in His name. He came to the earth to bless. He 
went into heaven to bless men — to bless babes as well 
as grown persons. Out of the mouths of babes and 
sucklings He perfected praise, when he went to Jerusa- 
lem to die for us; out of the mouths of them that died 
babes, praise shall be still better perfected in the world 
of praise. 



256 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



O my Charlotte, how it grieves me that I could not 
know whether thou ever heardst my voice, when I 
tried to say something to thee of Jesus. But Jesus, I 
trust, hears my voice for thee, and will receive thee to 
Himself when thou art taken from mine eyes. Jesus 
knows the hearts of petitioners who call upon Him to 
receive their departing spirits, or the departing spirits 
of those who are dear to them as themselves. "Lord, 
come clown ere my child die.''' Lord, let my cry for 
my child come before thee. Let her die, if she must 
die, the death of the righteous, and sleep in Jesus! 
. . . When I so clearly loved my Charlotte, why 
was I not more thankful for her to Him who o U ve 
me such a lovely child, and preserved her to me for 
seven years and eight clays ? I mentioned the eight 
days along with the seven years, because these clays, 
above the seven years, have been clays in which I was 
specially called and excited to pray for my Charlotte. 

Charlotte now cries to you from heaven, where she 
dwells with Christ. May we not indulge the cheering 
thought, that she wishes to have us all with her to 
share in her joys I She loved us when she was with 
us j and heaven will be the more pleasant to her, if she 
knows that we are all on the road to it, and will soon 
be where she is, and, what is far better, where Christ is. 

Let me patiently submit to the will of God, now so 
plainly disclosed, in depriving me of a child whom I 
so clearly loved. Surely the Lord lays not on me more 
than is meet. Every circumstance of every trouble is 



CONSOLATION. 



appointed by infinite wisdom. As the famous Fenelon 
said of his beloved prince, I ought to say of my beloved 
Charlotte, " If the turning of a straw would restore 
her to life, if I knew it to be contrary to the will of 
God, I would not do it." 

Death, I hope, when it comes, will be so much the 
less dreaded by me, that Charlotte and others whom I 
dearly loved, are already in another world. Death 
alone can join me again to their society, and others 
who deserve my love will not tarry long after me in 
this world. 

Br. Lawson to Dr. John Brown. 

"There is joy in grief." The stroke which has 
bereaved me of a large portion of my worldly treasure 
has, I hope, consummated the felicity of my lovely 
child. It was a wonderful instance of fortitude and 
patient submission to the will of God in David, that 
he recovered the tranquillity of his soul, and could 
write new songs of praise to God, after the loss of 
Amnon and of Absalom. You and I have reason to 
bless God that we have so much reason to look back 
with pleasure on the lives of those whose deaths we 
deplore.* 

* Eeflections on the Illness and Death of a Beloved Daughter. 
By the Rev. George Lawson, D.D., Selkirk. Edinburgh: Win. 
Oliphant & Co. — [This revered and learned Scottish divine 
was born in April, 1749; ordained at Selkirk, in May, 1771; 
chosen Professor of Divinity by the Associate Synod (now the 
United Presbyterian) in 1786 ; and died at Selkirk, on the 21st of 
February, 1820. aged 71 years.] 



288 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



INTENSITY OF PARENTAL GEIEF. 
Rev. Dr. Adah Thomson, Coldstream. 
The thought of the last struggle, and of the sufferings 
by which it was preceded, often increases the grief of 
parents when their children are removed by "death. 
Hardly anything can be more painful to a feeling mind, 
but especially in the case of affectionate parent's, than 
to behold little children enduring heavy trouble. Their 
incapacity to give any account of then- sufferings only 
aggravates our anxiety and our affliction on their 
account : while it renders the means of administering 
relief, or of partially soothing distress which cannot be 
relieved, so much the more difficult and precarious. 
When death comes, their sufferings are at an end 
Sometimes this is a real relief to their parents, as well 
as a happy deliverance to themselves; insomuch, indeed, 
that the event, once so anxiously deprecated, was at 
last earnestly desired. But, still, the remembrance of 
what was endured by the young and helpless victims 
m the passage to the place of rest, must ever be pain- 
ful beyond expression. 

O ! were I allowed now, my brethren, to forget the 
duty of the preacher, in attempting to describe the 
feelings of the parent— even of a father, not to speak 
of the indescribable anguish of the mother's heart- 
when hanging over the pillow of a beloved infant 
struggling with the last relentless foe: nay, or when 
obliged to remove, because unable any longer to witness 



CONSOLATION. 



289 



the overwhelming scene, and to wait for the wished-for 
intelligence, that the last breath had been drawn, and 
that the last pang had been felt, — how, in this case, 
should I have to labour for language to convey to you 
some idea of the agony endured in beholding, as long 
as it could be beheld, the seemingly imploring eyes — 
the out stretched and ever-moving little hands — the 
pale and distorted countenance — the quivering lips — 
the heaving breath, or the convulsive groan — the 
piteous cry, or the piercing shriek, and the throes of 
the whole enfeebled frame, amid the last burstings of 
the strings of life ! 

But even when the ' last enemy, in doing his work, 
gives the gentlest blow; when his harbingers have 
assumed the least alarming aspect, and caused the 
smallest amount of pain ; or, to speak without a figure, 
when our children have suffered comparatively little, 
and their death has, to all appearance, been easy, and 
almost without a pang, imagination, ever busy in such 
circumstances, amply supplies materials to heighten 
the intensity of that grief, which our loss, in whatever 
manner it was occasioned, never fails to excite. In- 
deed, the very fact itself, that our dear children have 
had to enter the lists with, and to fall, however gently, 
before a foe, whose last efforts we often so greatly dread 
for ourselves, is truly, and in many cases, inexpressibly 
distressing. 

The loss of their company makes parents greatly to 
lament, and bitterly to weep, when their children are 
removed by death. To persons totally uninterested, 



290 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



and who know nothing of the pains or pleasures of a 
parent s heart, it may seem ridiculous or absurd to 
speak of the satisfaction alleged to be derived from th- 
company of young children. But they are, at least 
innocent and pleasing, if not even enchanting, and, in 
many cases, improving companions nevertheless. Their 
harmless prattle, their expressive looks, their faseinatino- 
smiles, their advancing stature, and their openino- in- 
tellect, have aU a language full of meaning. And the 
experience of most parents can attest, that the company 
of their children is often one of the sweetest earthly 
enjoyments of which they ever participate. So much 
is this the case, accordingly, that when their children 
are gone, the very places where they spent most of 
their tune when alive, seem desolate when they are 
removed. They feel a blank in their homes, which it 
seems difficult, if not impossible, to replenish The 
companions left them afford less satisfaction, because 
their number is diminished. And, for a time they 
must weep for the loss of the little pleasing companions, 
whose company can no more, in this world, be enjoyed * 



CONSIDERATIONS FOR BEREAVED PARENTS. 
Rev. Dr. Ei-ssell, Dundee. 

Bereaved parents may therefore console themselves 
with the exquisitely pleasing consideration, that their 
departed infants have gone to "a better, even the 
* Consolation for Christian Mourners. By A. Thomson, D.D. 



COXSOLAxiOX. 



291 



heavenly country." And must it not endear the Scrip- 
tures to a Christian, that, while they exhibit to himself 
the way of peace, they also direct his views to the 
celestial world as the place whither the objects of his 
tenderest affections have gone, and where he expects to 
join them when the days of his sojourning on earth 
shall be ended I How gratifying the thought of having, 
as it were, a part of ourselves in the kingdom of 
God! 

He who wept at the grave of Lazarus, hath hallowed 
the tears of affection, but He forbids us to sorrow as 
if there were no hope. While you weep as nature 
feels, and indeed ought to feel, for otherwise the 
providence could not profit you, beware of nursing 
melancholy, and cherishing a morbid sensibility. May 
not the child say to you, " If ye loved me, ye would 
rejoice, because I have got home to my Father." If 
the hope of going to the Saviour animates your heart, 
is not the thought, that the happy spirit will never 
"return to you" in this evil world, likewise fraught 
with consolation I , 

When a bereaved parent feels all the force and 
tenderness of parental love, and while his heart bleeds 
for the loss of his children, let him ponder this precious 
record, " Like as a father pitieth his children, so the 
Lord pitieth them that fear Him ; " and let the discon- 
solate mother dwell on these words, "As one whom 
his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you;" and 
surely while they are charmed with their beauty, 
the soul will draw from these declarations the richest, 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



the most endearing, and the most effectual consola- 
tions. Their own feelings will help them to understand 
the warmth and the tenderness of the love of heaven. 

It is delightful to repose on Him, who can enter into 
our every feeling, can effectually succour us in the day 
of trial, and with power can say, "Weep not, the child 
is not dead but sleepeth." "I am the resurrection and 
the life." «0 thou afflicted, tossed with tempest; when 
thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee" 
Let the thought, then, of the blessedness of their 
departed infants, quicken the progress of Christians to 
the land of immortality, holiness, and joy. Let them 
rest on that word, which is able to fill with confidence 
and hope, even when descending the vale of the 
shadow of death, when, like a ship unmooring from its 
anchor, they are about to launch into a world of spirits 
when eternity is bursting on their view, and wheii 
called to that solemn meeting, which every individual 
must one day have with "Him whose eyes are a flame 
of fire." Let them wait for that « happy, happy hour, 
when, on bursting the vail of mortality," and entering 
into the celestial paradise, they shall find their infants 
m the bosom of Him, who hath graciously said, "Of 
such is the kingdom of heaven." 

"A few short years of evil past, 
We reach the happy shore, 
Where death-divided friends at last 
Shall meet, to part no more."* 

* Infant Salvation : or, An attempt to prove that all who Die 

r? d - By T DaVid EuSSeU ' D ^e. ThS 

Mition, 1844. Glasgow: James Maclehose. 



CONSOLATION. 



293 



A LOVELY CHILDHOOD— ITS CLOSING SCENE, 

Rev. George Gilfillan, Dundee. 

There was one event in my domestic history at this 
time which cast a deep shadow on my sonl, and 
weakened me for the contest with my spiritual 
foes. This was the death of a dear little girl who 
was connected with me, and whom I regarded as a 
daughter. I am guilty of no conscious exaggeration 
when I call my Agnes ail that Mrs. Stowe has since 
represented in Eva — one of the rarest specimens of the 
workmanship of heaven. In her simple yet profound 
nature, was united a wisdom beyond her years to the 
most bewitching artlessness. Playful, yet serious ; quick 
in feeling; buoyant in spirits; fond of books and of 
solitude to a degree which is rarely to be found in one 
so utterly a child; affectionate and open-hearted, she 
wielded a gentle fascination which was felt beyond her 
own little circle, and attested by the tears which the 
news of her loss drew from many to whom she was but 
partially known. Her face was one of those which, 
without being perfectly regular in their beauty, win 
their way still more beseechingly to the heart. Its 
leading characters were transparent openness — every 
feature obeying the motions of the mind within, 
promptly and fully as the wave receives the sunbeam : 
great flexibility and intelligence of expression; and 
that indescribable something which naivete and heart 
unite in stamping on the countenance. Her brow was 



2U 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



prominent, pale as marble, and nobly expanded: her 
eyes — 

" O ! speak not of her eyes— they were 
Twin mirrors of the Scottish summer heaven 

her chin Grecian, as if chiselled by Phidias; her cheek, 
in exercise or emotion, often flushing up through its 
paleness into a rich and roseate hue; her voice clear, 
sweet, none the less for its Norland accent, and pre- 
dicting a beautiful singer; and her step light, airy, and 
swift as a "roe or a young hart upon the mountains." 
Disease — it was severe hooping- cough — changed her 
countenance, ere it sent her away, spreading a fearful 
pallor over the whole, protruding the fine eye into a 
stare of anguish, and choking up the music of her 
voice which, inarticulate, became unable to express her 
thickening thoughts and wants; but death restored her 
to herself, and almost all her former beauty clustered 
round her corpse. Death is often a ghastly disguise, a 
dread mask, reminding you of an il] -executed picture. 
But she was so calmly beautiful, so spiritually still, so 
smilingly radiant amidst her marble coldness, that but 

for the heart-heard whisper — how stilly low! "It is 

for ever," and the shudder springing from the touch of 
the icy brow, you would have said, "The maid is not 
dead; she only sleepeth." Death seemed forced to 
smile out the news of immortality from her dear cold 
countenance. It was solemn beyond expression to see 
friend after friend coming in on tiptoe, raising the 
covering, looking and leaning over the face, and with 



CONSOLATION. 



295 



sighs or tears, or aspect of withered unweeping woe, 
turning away. It was inexpressibly touching, too, to 
see the immediate relatives taking their last look ere 
the lid of the coffin was closed, amid bursting sobs, and 
all the other irrepressible signs of sorrow — suddenly 
brought under the sense of an eternal separation; one 
parent the while looking not — daring not to look — but 
patting the dear brown head once more, and hurrying 
away. In a sweet southerly side of the beautiful kirk- 
yard of F , beside the bones of her grandfather, 

under the clear blue sky of the north, and in the ex- 
pectation of the coming, to this sunlit vale of tears, of 
Jesns Christ with His holy angels, repose, and have for 
twenty-five years reposed, the remains of one who never 
gave a pang to a friend's heart, nor armed with a rod 
a father's hand; whose memory shall be cherished, and 
her sweetest name repeated, and the spot where lies 
her virgin dust visited and watered with tears, while 
there lives one of those who really knew her, or felt 
how insipid in comparison was all love beside what she 
inspired — of one who in the brief business of her exist- 
ence exhibited the affection of the amiable child, the 
ardour of the docile scholar, the liveliness of the fearless 
girl, and the graces of the saint sanctified from the 
womb. She was my play-fellow when cheerful, my 
comforter when sad; her artless yet piercing prattle at 
once soothed and roused my mind ; and assuredly, amid 
all the "chambers of my imagery," I have never had 
an idol like her, whose premature loss I continue 
bitterly, yet submissively, to deplore. 



296 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Not so submissive were my feelings at the time. 
How my heart bled, and what dark, unhappy thoughts 
crossed my soul, as I saw this good and beautiful 
young being writhing in anguish, and weeping with 
her fearful pain, till there came at last a wild and 
merciful delirium, and gave her partial forgetfulness ! 
And it was not till I saw the child I loved so dearly 
fairly committed to the grave, and had leant a long 
time in anguish over a tombstone which was casting 
its shadow on the little spot, and, looking up to the 
sun shining so bright and cold in the spring sky, had 
said within myself, as Scott cried at the burial of one 
of his friends, " There shall be less sunshine for me 
henceforth," that tears came to my relief, and a rainbow 
of resignation, if not of hope, seemed to smile through 
these bitter yet blessed tears. 



TO A MOTHER BEREAVED OF HER 
FIRST-BORN. 
Rev. Dr. John Morison, London, 

For thirty-two years Editor of the "Evangelical Magazine:' 

In October, 1855, Dr. Morison addressed the following 

consolatory letter to a bereaved parent : 

Though I do not know a mother's heart, when be- 
reaved of a first-born and only child; yet, having 
watched the feelings of many bereaved mothers, and seen 
my own dear wife in seasons when we have been called 
to part with our loved ones, I think I am able fully to 



CONSOLATION. 



297 



sympathise with you and Mr. B at this trying 

moment of your conjugal life. Very precious, I know° 
was that dear child to you— you felt him to be the 
gift of God; you watched over him as from the Lord; 
you looked forward in hope that he might be the stay 
and solace of your future years ; you prayed for him, 
and taught his infant lips the name of Jesus; and, 
though he has had the little ailments of children, per- 
haps you never seriously entertained the thought that 
God was to recall him from you in his early childhood. 
How good and merciful are God's concealments ! He will 
not disclose to us the painful future, because we could 
not bear it, and because He means, in all our hidden 
trials, with a Father's love to sustain and cheer us. 
And so it will be, my dear Madam, with you. He 
bestowed on you that precious gift, which you so much 
valued; and now that He has seen fit, in inscrutable 
wisdom, to resume His own gift, He will prove to you 
that, in His own unchangeable and everlasting love, 
He will make up the sad loss by filling your heart 
with the sweet sense of His loving-kindness and tender- 
mercy. It is all well— supremely well— with the dear 
child. Your sympathising Eedeemer has taken him 
into His own bosom, and he is safe for ever from the 
ills to which he would have been exposed in this sinful 
and sorrowing world. Hereafter he will welcome his 
loving, though now afflicted parents, into everlasting 
habitations; and though he had a father on earth, and 
a Father in heaven, you will be his only recognised 
mother to all eternity. May God be with you, to 

u 



298 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



pour His own balm into your wounded heart! and 
enable you to say, in chastened submission, "The Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the 
name of the Lord!" 

Referring to the sudden death of little Emma, one 
of his son-in-law's children — Dr. Legge, missionary in 
China — Dr. Morison observes: — She ascended, doubt- 
less, to sing more joyfully the words which she so often 
warbled on earth, "Glory, glory." She is a bright 
spirit in heaven. She has met her dear mother, and 
they do know each other.* 



"GO THY WAY, THY SON LIVETH." 

Rev. John Jameson, Methven, Perthshire. 

When death breaks in amongst our children, there is 
made a great gulf, and we, poor parents ! can only look, 
and feel, and weep. The place well known amongst 
the rest, is empty; the place at the table is empty; 
their place in yonr prayers is empty; and the face 
which met you at the door, with all its little news, 
meets you no more, Bitterness gathers on my heart, 
and I must stop. 

Your little David was lovely, and singularly beloved. 
Be thankful that you had such a child. Be thankful 
that you had him so long. Be thankful that the Lord 
did not consult you how long the loan should be 

* Memoirs of John Morison, D.D., LL.D. By John Kennedy, 
M.A., Stepney, London. 



CONSOLATION. 



299 



continued. His precious gifts might receive damage 
in our fond and foolish hands; for this cause, the 
Father of mercies, in great tenderness, takes them and 
hides them from us, but at the same time lays them 
up, to be brought forth, and restored as a new source 
of great joy, at the meeting of the spirits of just men 
made perfect. « I will g0 to him," said the man, and 
the mourner, after God's own heart. 

There is something exceedingly mysterious in the 
early death of the finest children. Nevertheless, we 
may not charge God foolishly. You know well, how, 
sometimes, you would take the little object of its fond 
regard out of the hand and eager grasp of your dear 
little child, not in stern severity, but to allure its 
greater willingness to come to yourself. God dealeth 
with us as with children. He snatches from us, it may 
be in the bud, the finest specimens of our nature, around 
which the fondness and the hope of our hearts cling, 
not because He would cast us off, but that He may the 
more effectually win our thoughts and our hearts to 
Himself here, and the more easily reconcile us hereafter 
to be likewise ever with the Lord. 

Tell Mrs. B. to dry up her tears; she gave her 
little darling to the Lord; and where would a mother's 
heart wish him to be, but just where he is far better ? 
I often think of that most wondrous saying of Christ's, 
"Go thy way, thy son liveth." Ay, the babe that 
slept so sweetly in his mother's arms, sleeps in Jesus- 
he sleeps only; and "they shall be mine, saith the 
Lord, in that day when I make up my jewels." 



300 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



At the close of a letter to the same person, on the 
death of another child, Mr. Jameson says:— Hare the 
goodness to tell Mrs. B. from me, not to feel herself 
less a joyful mother of children, that the Lord had need 
of her darling George, and wished him nearer Himself. 
It is but a little, when this thin veil of clouds, murky, 
I wot, hanging its darkness betwixt us and that region 
of brightness, shall break away, and our God shall put 
to shame our weeping, giving us back our lost, clad in 
heaven's own garb, and beaming in all the light and 
health of that happiness and glory in which they have 
been .kept, and nursed, and nourished. " Them that 
sleep in Jesus will God bring with Him." 

It is a striking fact, that a great multitude of those 
whom, we may say, we see taken and carried away to 
the heavenly country, belong to a lovely and singular 
and heavenlike infancy, which seems already and mani- 
festly to betoken that they were never destined to the 
changes and roughness of a world of storms. Your 
little infant smiled, and passed, and left them all for 
ever. I beg my most affectionate condolence to Mrs. 
B. It would be idle, truly, to tell her not to weep- 
as well charge the heavens not to rain ; there is some- 
thing sacred and not to be meddled with in a mother's 
tears. Ah me ! my little children died, and there was 
no mother to weep over them. 



CONSOLATION. 



301 



A FATHER CONSOLING HIS BEREAVED 
DAUGHTER. 

Rev. John Jameson. 

So quickly, so lightly, and so placidly passed she, that 
ere we had the courage to think she was going, already 
she was not. With all the simplicity of an infant, 
she had said to her mother, the day before she fell ill, 
that she was going to die. Just as she was depart- 
ing, she revived for a moment, gathered strength, and 
throwing one full look of kindness on her trembling 
parent, breathed her last. "That look," said her 
mother to me, "I can never forget; that look was 
all the portion she had to bequeath; and that look 
now lifts me up." There was something very fine in 
the scene. Little J ohnnie, heedless of his own grief — 
and he, too, had been crying bitterly — when he beheld 
his mother weeping, sprung to her, clasped her in his 
arms, clapped her with all his gentleness, and kissed 
the tears from her cheeks. 

This world of ours, my dear Mary, is just a green- 
house, where there are flowers of everv standing. 
Those, generally, of a commoner and lowlier sort hang 
long, and from month to month, unfading still, deal 
out, with unchanging hue, their daily meed of fragrance 
— it may be, little felt and little noticed; but still they 
are there. Those, again, of grander flowering, with 
their bright and delicate and sparkling beauty, which 
rivets our gaze, soon, right soon, alas ! fade away. 



9 A 9 

WORDS OF COHFOET. 



There * > a flower, they tell us, the most exquisite of 
all that blossoms, which blooms during night, as if day 
were too strong for the delicacy of its sweetness. In 
such haste is it to be gone, that in the self-same hour 
m winch it opens and spreads its loveliness, it sheds it 
and its leaf falls off. The gardener alone, curious ancl 
deeply interested, who has sat up and watched to see 
has catched and felt the pleasure of the passing sight' 
lour little Maggy was such a flower. Why should 
we thmk it strange when the flower is faded ?_« the 
bpmt of the Lord bloweth upon it." The flower has 
lived its own, its appointed time: and could tarry no 
longer, by no means. A child may cry when its lovely 
flower is gone; far otherwise the gardener himself- 
he is satisfied, nay, is quite delighted, that ever such 
a flower was Lis. 

_ The remark (says Mr. Jameson to another friend 
in intimating the death of his little daughter) so 
universally made, seems to be just, that children of 
uncommon promise are early taken out of this world 
where we should think they were most needed ; but if 
at any time, and in anything, in this world of darkness 
respecting the future, you feel deeply and solemnly 
nnpressed with the assurance of another and nobler 
state of being, it is when these fair plants, so goodly 
which it were impossible to suppose that God had 
made m vain, are seen evidently transferred to a more 
congenial and happier climate. They would have been 
spoiled in this. The great God, our Saviour, wont 
trust them here. It is thus, ever since the days of 



CONSOLATION. 



303 



Enoch, by the constant recurrence of strong everyday 
facts, He has been, and is admonishing this world, that 
there must be a hereafter. 

To me the stroke is deeply afflicting. Poor man ! 
overwhelmed as I was, I went to His holy table, and 
felt like one in the pelting of a storm, taking shelter 
under ImmanueL* 



THE SAVIOUR" S SYMPATHY WITH THE 
AFFLICTED. 

Rev. Db. Johx Eadie, Lansdowne Church, Glasgow. 

It is in the period of suffering and bereavement that 
the soul is brought into nearer contact with God, and 
knows Him, not from what it believes, but from what 
it enjoys — not from what it has been taught, but 
from what it has experienced. We are all aware 
that our Lord is named the " Man of Sorrows," and 
we are taught that He is " touched with the feeling of 
our infirmities :" but we do not adequately comprehend 
the truth, till, under the pressure of infirmity, we enjoy 
His sympathy: and then we can say, Now we know 
it, for we have felt it. There is truly a sublime mean- 
ing in the words which He spoke to Martha, "I am 
the Eesurrection and the Life:" but only those 
circumstanced as she was — the grave having closed 

* Eemains of tlie Eev. Jolin Jameson, Methven. Edinburgh : 
Thomas Grant. [This good man was born at Kilwinning, Ayr- 
shire, in 1774, and died in January, 1837. aged 63 years.] 



304. 

WORDS OF COMFORT. 

over her brother-can really enter into their nobilitr 
and triumph. He who has never felt the pan. or 
desolation of bereaveinent-whose heart has never 
been pierced by the barbed and mortal shaft-who has 
never gazed on the corpse of parent, brother, or child 
and seen it closed up from view-who has never made 
one of the group of weeping mourners that stand, in 
inexpressible solemnity, by the grave, and feel a sad 
sinking of heart as they leave behind them, in dust and 
darkness, that form which they shall not see ao- a in till 
Christ descend and the trumpet sound-such a scaith- 
iess and untried believer cannot, though he would, 
unfold to himself the sweetness and comfort of the 
saying, « I am the Resurrection and the Life." There 
is no Christian heart that does not hold by the plecW 
"My grace is sufficient for thee;" but it is onlv when 
"weakness" overpowers it, that it can really find that 
His "strength is made perfect," Without affliction 
tne purest and closest knowledge of God could never 
be acquired; a vail would still seem to lie upon Him 
Ihe glory that surrounds Him might dazzle us; but 
we should still be comparative strangers to the tender- 
ness and love of His heart. Still at a distance from 
Him we would indeed trust Him; but when He lays 
His hand upon us and brings us nearer Him, then do 
^ve acquaint ourselves with His loving-kindness, no 
longer by report, but by tasting it. Yon may have 
seen the solar beam thrown back in yellow splendour 
from the crystal rocks, as they glistened with gold 
but now you have found and gathered the precious ore 



CONSOLATION. 



305 



It is one thing to admire the beauty of His pavilion, 
and another thing to be in it; one thing to know Him 
from what He has said, and another to know Him in 
what He has done. Surely experimental intimacy far 
excels theoretic information; but it is gained only in 
the school of affliction. 

Did, therefore, the friendship of Christ secure us 
against suffering, it would shade from our view these 
prime and happy lessons. But Christ is anxious that 
we learn them, and therefore, though He loves us, He 
permits us to suffer, that we may yearn for a fuller 
sense of His presence, and, penetrating into His heart, 
know, because we feel, the love and power of our 
Beloved and Friend. 

"JESUS WEPT." 
Eev. Dr. Eadie. 

Marvellous spectacle! Jesus wept, as the mourners 
about Him wept! The sight of such sorrow over- 
powered Him, and He could not refrain. That was a 
true manhood, which felt this touch of nature, and 
burst into tears. There was no Stoicism in His 
constitution. There was no attempt to train clown 
His sympathies, and educate Himself to a hard and 
inhuman indifference. Neither was He ashamed of 
His possession of our ordinary sensibilities. He felt it 
no weakness to weep in public with them that wept. 
So sinful did sin appear in its penalty of death— so 
saddening was the desolation which death had brought 



WORDS OP COMFORT. 



into that happy home— so humbling was the picture 
of Lazarus, alive and active but a few clays before, but 
now laid in the narrow vault, and carefully concealed 
from view, that the Saviour bowed to the stroke, and, 
under the impulse of genuine sympathy, "Jesus wept." 
Perhaps the prospect of His own death and entomb- 
ment rose up suddenly before Him— the thought that 
He should soon be as Lazarus now was, a cold and 
inanimate corpse, with weeping mourners making a 
similar procession to His tomb. And though He had 
but to take a few steps more, and the greatest of His 
miracles should be achieved, and he that was dead 
should be raised— so powerful and tender were His 
mingled sensations that "Jesus wept." 

Shall we use the common term, and say that He 
was "unmanned V tf 0 . Such an epithet originates 
in a grievous misinterpretation of our nature. Is man 
to be denied the relief of tears, and woman only to be 
so privileged? Is it beneath his masculine robustness 
to show a moistened eye? Is he to be a traitor to 
deepest and purest emotion, and to attempt to cauterize 
the fountain of tears'? No. Christ, the model of 
manhood, the mirror of all that was noble and dignified 
did not deny Himself the relief; and shall men be 
looked upon as effeminate, as falling from the dignity 
of their sex, if, with emotions like Christ's, they sbed 
tears like Him? No. Perish that dignity which 
would aspire to a transcendental apathy that man was 
not made for, and which Jesus despised. The tear is 
as genuine as the smile. He who would do such 



CONSOLATIOX. 



307 



violence to his nature, insults its Creator, and would 
foolishly set himself above the example of the Redeemer. 
Instead of raising himself abo^e humanity, he sinks 
beneath its level. The brow that never wore a smile 
is not more unnatural than the eye that never glistened 
with a tear. 

Therefore do we vindicate for the afflicted mourner 
the privilege of tears. You are not giving way to sin, 
when you are giving way to tears. Man is not dis- 
gracing his manhood, nor woman showing herself to be 
but a woman, when they weep under bereavement. 
Try not to be above the Saviour. It is not sin to 
mourn, but the sin is to murmur — to fall into queru- 
lous repining as if God had wronged you, and it 
needed an effort on your part to forgive Him. We 
are sure that Jesus harboured no grudge of this nature 
against His Father in heaven; and yet He wept. To 
forbid tears is to impose a cruel penance — is to deny 
a luxury to the mourner in which his Lord indulged. 
0 thou of the bruised heart, when thou goest to the 
sepulchre where the beloved dust is garnered, weep, 
but not in dejection — weep, but repine not; disturb 
not the unbidden tear, as thou art in the place of 
burials. The dust thou sorrowest over cannot indeed 
respond; but the time is coming when thy tears shall 
be wiped away by the very hand that inflicted the 
stroke 

Whichever form of bereavement oppresses you, O 
be comforted by the thought that "Jesus wept" — 
that He who so wept is still unchanged in nature — 



308 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



that the heart which was so troubled is as susceptible 
now as then, and beats in unison and sympathy with 
you under such trials and sorrows. What a comforter 
is the Elder Brother, who knows what it is to be 
bereaved, and will, out of such experience, soothe and 
solace His people! Nay more, for eighteen hundred 
years the Man Jesus has been employed in binding up 
the bleeding in heart, and healing all their wounds. 
Every variety of grief He has dealt with, and with 
every element and form of it He is perfectly familiar. 
If there be power in human sympathy to lighten the 
load of woe, O how much more in the sympathy of 
Him who "bore our griefs and carried our sorrows" — 
whose words of comfort reach the heart — who gives 
Himself to be loved in room of the object taken away 
— and gathers the departed into a blessed company 
before the throne, with the prospect of a happy and 
unclouded re-union ! Let the mourner never forget the 
image of the weeping Saviour. O how it will re-assure 
him, and fill him with unspeakable consolation ! Thou 
weepest — but " Jesus wept !" * 



HOW TO SYMPATHIZE WITH MOURNERS. 

"Rev. Dr. Charles J. Vaughan, Vicar of Doncaster. 

Sorrow is a great test of truth. Nothing which has 
the slightest tinge of unreality, whether in the form of 

* The Divine Love. Ey John Eadie, D.D., LL.D., Professor of 
Biblical Literature to the Ignited Presbyterian Church. Second 
Edition. Edinburgh: W. Oliphant & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



309 



exaggeration or of affectation, lias a chance of acceptance 
with persons in deep trouble. There must be, as a 
first condition, the recognition of the existence in the 
sufferer's case of that which is hard to bear; and there 
must be, as a second condition, the presentation of that 
which is perfectly supporting, because absolutely true, 
to meet it, if a man would minister with any effect to 
one on whom pain or loss, anxiety or desolation, has 
laid a heavy hand. Too often there is an attempt to 
ignore the sorrow: to treat it as if it were made too 
much of; almost to reprove it, as if it were fanciful or 
voluntary. It is difficult for health and sickness, ease 
and distress, a whole heart and a wounded heart, to 
meet and sympathize : grief is suspicious of gladness, 
and is slow to be persuaded that he who comes to the 
house of mourning from the dwelling of cheerfulness 
can bring with him a just appreciation of the. calamity 
which he seeks to soothe. To be able to weep with 
them that weep is a necessary requisite in one who would 
be, in the divine sense, a son of consolation. 

It is the first object of sorrow, if we recognize in it 
any object at all, that it be felt. If there is a remedial 
purpose in it, or if there is even a chastising and a 
humbling purpose in it, this can only be answered by 
the entrance of the pain itself into the very soul's soul. 
This is what an inexperienced comforter will not let it 
do. He acts, with his spiritual comfort, just as he 
thinks it wrong and shocking for another to act with 
his worldly comfort. He counts it a great sin to drown 
sorrow by letting in the din of the world upon it: but 



310 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



does lie not himself seek to overbear sorrow in an 
opposite manner, by haste and precipitation in admin- 
istering the remedies of the Gospel ? Truths which 
will be valuable and efficacious a month hence, may 
themselves be inoperative and inaudible to-day. And 
the wise physician, like Him whose hand is working 
with him from above, will abide and watch His time. 
He will be satisfied, in the first instance, that the soul 
should lay itself low and let the wave pass over it. Its 
foot must touch the bottom of the deep waters before 
it can safely rise again to their surface. All that we 
can desire to hear from the rent heart, in the first hours 
of anguish, is the simple confession, It is the Lord* 



COMFORTING THE AFFLICTED. 

Jeremy Taylor. 

Certain it is, that as nothing can better do it, so there 
is nothing greater, for which God made our tongues, 
next to reciting His praises, than to minister comfort 
to a weary soul. And what greater pleasure can we 
have, than that we should bring joy to our brother, who 
with his dreary eyes looks to heaven and round about, 
and cannot find so much rest as to lay his eyelids close 
together— than that thy tongue should be tuned with 
heavenly accents, and make the weary soul to listen 
for light and ease; and when he perceives that there is 

* Kays of Sunlight for Dark Days. With a Preface by C. J. 
Vauglian, D.D. London and Cambridge : Macmillan & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



311 



such a thing in the world, and in the order of things, 
as comfort and joy, to begin to break out from the 
prison of his sorrows at the door of sighs and tears, and 
by little and little melt into showers and refreshment] 
This is glory to thy voice, and employment fit for the 
brightest angel. But so have I seen the sun kiss the 
frozen earth, which was bound up with the images of 
death, and the colder breath of the north; and then the 
waters break from their enclosures, and melt with joy, 
and run in useful channels ; and the flies do rise again 
from their little graves in walls, and dance awhile in 
the air, to tell that there is joy within, and that the 
great mother of creatures will open the stock of her 
new refreshment, become useful to mankind, and sino- 
praises to her Redeemer. So is the heart of a sorrowful 
man under the discourses of a wise comforter; he breaks 
from the despairs of the grave, and the fetters and 
chains of sorrow; he blesses God, and he blesses thee, 
and he feels his life returning; for to be miserable is 
death, but nothing is life but to be comforted; and God 
is pleased with no music from below so much as in the 
thanksgiving songs of relieved widows, of supported 
orphans, of rejoicing, and comforted, and thankful 
persons. 



LITTLE CELLS OF FELICITY. 

Jeremy Taylor. 

It is not mere dying that is pretended by some as 
the cause of their impatient mourning ; but that the 



312 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



child died young, before he knew good and evil, and so 
lost all his portion of this world, and they know not of 
what excellency his portion in the next shall be. If 
he died young, he lost but little, for he understood but 
little, and had not great capacities of great pleasures or 
great cares : but yet he died innocent, and before the 
sweetness of his soul was deflowered and ravished from 
him by the flames and follies of a fro ward age. 

Eemove thy thoughts back to those days in which thy 
child was not born, and you now but as you were then, 
and there is no difference but that you had a son born: 
and if you reckon that (birth) for evil, you are un- 
thankful for the blessing; if it be good, it is better 
that you had the blessing for awhile than not at all. 
If we have great reason to complain of the calamities 
and evils of our life, then we have the less reason to 
grieve that those whom we loved have so small a por- 
tion of evil assigned to them. And it is no small 
advantage which our children dying young receive : for 
their condition of a blessed immortality is rendered to 
them secure, by being snatched from the clangers of an 
evil choice, and carried to their little cells of felicity, 
where they can weep no more. And this the wisest 
of the Gentiles understood well, when they forbade any 
offerings or libations to be made for dead infants, as 
was usual for their other dead ; as believing they were 
entered into a secure possession; to which they were 
admitted with no other condition, but that they passed 
into it through the way of mortality, and for a few 
months wore an uneasy garment — and let weeping 



CONSOLATION. 



313 



parents say, if they do not think that the evils their 
little babes have suffered are sufficient. If they be, 
why are they troubled that they were taken from 
those many and greater, which in succeeding years 
are great enough to try all the reason and religion 
which art and nature and the grace of God have pro- 
duced in us, to strengthen us for siich sad contentions? 
— and possibly we may doubt concerning men and 
women; but we cannot suspect that to infants death 
can be such an evil, but that it brings to them much 
more good than it takes from them in this life. * 



MATTHEW HENRY MOURNING FOR HIS 
THREE CHILDREN. 

In July, 1692, Matthew Henry writes as follows, re- 
specting his dear Elizabeth, three days before she 
died : — " I desire to leave her in the arms of Him that 
gave her me : the will of the Lord be done ! I have said, 
if the Lord will sjDare her to me, I will endeavour to 
bring her up for Him, I am now sitting by a poor 
weak child, thinking of the mischievous nature of 
original sin, by which cbath reigns over poor infants." 

* A finer pattern of a Christian Divine, says a writer in 
Chambers's Cyclopcedia of English Literature, never, perhaps, existed. 
His learning dignified the high station he at last attained ; his 
gentleness and courtesy shed a grace over his whole conduct and 
demeanour; while his commanding genius and energy in the 
cause of truth and virtue, render him worthy of everlasting 
affection and veneration. Bishop Taylor died in August, 1667, 
in his fifty-fifth year. 



314 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Shortly before her departure, the father says, " In the 
morning I had the child in my arms, endeavouring 
solemnly to give it up to God, and to bring my heart 
to God's will; and presently there seemed some reviv- 
ing; but while I was writing this down, I was sud- 
denly called out of my closet. I went for the doctor, 
and brought him with me; but as soon as we came in, 
the sweet babe quietly departed between the mother's 
arms and mine, without any struggle; for nature was 
spent by its long illness; and now my house is a house 
of mourning. It was a pretty forward child, and very 
apprehensive, and began to go, and talk, and observe 
things very prettily. I had set mine affection much 
upon it; I am afraid too much. God is wise, and 
righteous, and faithful; and even this also is not only 
consistent with, but flowing from covenant law. It is 
this day five years since I was first married ; God has 
been teaching me to sing of mercy and of judgment. 
Lord, make me more perfect at my lessons, and shew 
me wherefore Thou contendest with me ! Lord, wean 
me from this world by it! Blessed be God for the 
covenant of grace with me and mine, it is well ordered 
in all things and sure. O that I could learn to comfort 
others with the same comforts with which, I trust, 
I am comforted of my God ! This comes near, but O 
Lord I submit ! I am much refreshed with 2 Kings 
iv. 26. "Is it well with thee? is it well with thy 
husband 1 is it well with the child ? and she answered, 
It is well." Although I part with so dear a child, 
yet I have no reason to say otherwise but that it is 



CONSOLATION. 



315 



well with us, and well with the child, for all is well 
that God doth; He perforrneth the thing that He 
appointed for me, and His appointment of this provi- 
dence is in pursuance of His appointment of me to 
glory, to make me meet for it." 

After the funeral he thus writes : " I have been this 
day doing a work that I never did, burying a child. A 
sad day's work; but my good friend Mr. Lawrence 
preached very seasonably and excellently in the after- 
noon, from Psalm xxxix. 9. "I was dumb, I opened 
not my mouth; because Thou didst it." My friends 
testified their kindness by their presence. Here is now 
a pretty little garment laid up in the wardrobe of the 
grave, to be worn again at the resurrection : Blessed be 
God for this hope !" 

In the year following, this good man was bereaved 
of a second little daughter, and says, "The Lord is 
righteous; He takes and gives, and gives and takes 
again: I desire to submit." 

Five years afterwards he is called to part with an- 
other daughter, Anne, and thus communes with his 
own heart: — " My desire is to be sensible of the afflic- 
tion, and yet patient under it. It is a rod, a smarting 
rod; God calls my sin to remembrance, the coldness of 
my love to God, abuse of spiritual comforts, &c. ; it is 
a rod in the hand of my Father, I desire to see in it a 
Father's authority, who may do what He will, and a 
Father's love, who will do what is best. We resigned 
the soul of tie child to Him that gave it; and if the 
little ones have their angels, doubting not of their minis- 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



fcration Cn death, we Lave hopes, through grace, th^t 
it is well with the child; little children in heaven 
we look upon as the via lactea [milky way], the indi- 
viduals scarce discernible, but altogether beautifying 
the heavens. We spent the day in sorrow for our 
affliction, our friends sympathising with us; one day 
committing the immortal soul to God, this clay the 
body to the dust of the earth as it was. I am in 
deaths often; Lord, teach me how to die daily. I 
endeavoured, when this child was put into the grave, 
to act faith upon the doctrine of the resurrection, 
believing in Him who quickeneth the dead." 

In April, 1668, the Eev. Philip Henry, father of 
the Commentator, was called to part with his first-born. 
Writing to his son, after the funeral, he remarks : — 

"My dear child, now mine no longer, was laid in 
the cold earth: not lost, but soon to be raised ao'ain 
a glorious body ; and I shall go to him, but he shall 
not return to me. Weeping must not hinder sowing." 

In his commentary, Matthew Henry observes: — 
" This may comfort us when our children are removed 
from us by death— they are better provided for, both 
in work and wealth, than they could be in this world. 
We shall be with them shortly, to part no more."* 

* Matthew Henry, the justly-celebrated commentator, was 
born at Broad Oak, Flintshire, on the 18th of October, 1662; was 
ordained at Chester, in 1687, where he laboured zealously and suc- 
cessfully, by means of the pulpit and the press, for twenty-seven 
years ; and died on his way home to the ancient city of Chester, 
on the 22d of June, 1714; a°;ed fifty -two years. Of few divines 
can it be more appropriately said that, "He beiDg dead yet 
speaketh." 1 



CONSOLATION. 



317 



EARTHLY COMFORTS A TRUST— NOT A GIFT. 
Rev. John Newton. 

We often complain of our losses, but the expression 
is rather improper. Strictly speaking, we can lose 
nothing, because we have no real property in anything. 
Our earthly comforts are lent us, and when recalled, 
we ought to return and resign them with thankfulness 
to Him who has let them remain so long in our hands. 
That is a sweet, instructive, and important passage in 
the 12th chapter of Hebrews, verses 5-11. It is so 
plain that it needs no comment; so full, that a com- 
ment would but weaken it. May the Lord inscribe it 
upon your heart! "Ye have forgotten the exhorta- 
tion which speaketh unto you as unto children, My 
son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor 
faint when thou art rebuked of Him : for whom the 
Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son 
whom He receiveth. If ye endure chastening, God 
dealeth with you as with sons; for what son is he 
whom the father chasteneth not 1 But if ye be with- 
out chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are 
ye bastards, and not sons. Furthermore, we have had 
fathers of our flesh which corrected us, and we gave 
them reverence: shall we not much rather be in sub- 
jection unto the Father of spirits, and live % For they 
verily for a few days chastened us after their own 
pleasure; but He for our profit, that we might be 
partakers of His holiness. Now no chastening for the 



318 



W0KDS OF COMFORT. 



present seenieth to be joyous, but grievous: neverthe- 
less afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of right- 
eousness unto them which are exercised thereby." 



THE LILIES GATHERED. 

Rev. Ebexezee, Erskixe, Stirling. 

I find that since the death of the child, my soul has 
been more quickened in the way of duty than formerly, 
more lively in prayer, more resolved to follow the Lord, 
and to cleave to Him. I find that I needed this spur 
of affliction, to excite me to my duty, and it has made 
me more importunate in behalf of my poor child who 
is a-dying. On the death of a second, he says, '1 have 
grounds of hope that my sweet Henry is now praising 
and triumphing with Christ in glory." On the death of 
a third child, of five years of age, he observes, "I cannot 
express the grief of my heart for the loss of this child, 
the other two strokes being so recent. The Lord make 
me content with His dispensations, and give me the 
sanctified use of these repeated breaches He has made 
upon my poor family! I hope to be gathered unto 
Christ with my little ones ere long. I have had a sore 
parting, but they and I, I hope, shall have a joyful 
meeting. O, that I were fit for the work which my 
pleasant babes are now employed in! If I get the 
eternal Son of God into my heart, I shall not be at a 
loss for my three sons that are gone. O Lord, let me 
find upmaking in Thyself ! I am content to be bereaved 



CONSOLATION. 



319 



of all I have in the world, if Thou wilt give me Thyself 
as my sure portion." 

On the death of another child, he thus writes:— 
Upon the 7th day of December, my dear, sweet, 
and pleasant child, Isabel Erskine, died. I got freedom 
during her sickness, particularly the same forenoon, 
before she died, to present her before the Lord, and 
to plead His covenant on her behalf. The Lord enabled 
me to quit her freely to Him, on this account, that 
He had a far better title to her than I. She was 
mine, only as her earthly father. She is His, by creation, 
preservation, by dedication to Him in baptism, and His 
also, I hope, by covenant and redemption, and therefore, 
I am persuaded, she is now His by glorification; and 
that she is with the Lord Jesus, and with her dear 
mother, triumphing with God in glory. I had a parti- 
cular affection for the child, and doted but too much 
upon her, because she was the likest her mother of any 
of the children, both as to her countenance and humour. 
But I see that the Lord will not allow me to have any 
idols, but will have the whole of my heart to Himself. 
And, Lord, let it be so ! Amen, and amen. She died 
pleasantly, without any visible pang or throe ■ her soul, 
I hope, being carried by angels into Abraham's bosom, 
and her body buried by her mother's side in her brother's 
grave. I take it kindly that the Lord comes to my 
family to gather lilies wherewith to garnish the upper 
sanctuary : 'for of such is the kingdom of heaven.' And 
oh, it sometimes affords me a pleasing prospect, to think 
I have so much 'plenishing in heaven before me; and that, 



320 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



when I enter the gates of glory, I shall not only be 
welcomed by the whole general assembly of saints and 
angels, but that my wife and four pleasant babes will, 
in a particular manner, welcome me to those regions 
of glory, and that I shall join in the hallelujahs of the 
Higher House, which shall never have an end.* 



CHILDREN BEFORE THE THRONE. 

Rev. Thomas Boston, Ettrick. 

The following interesting letter from the useful pen of 
this venerated Scottish Divine, is dated Ettrick, May 22, 
1726: — I had yours with the much affecting account 
of your loss of a dear child. I travelled that gloomy 
road six times, and learned that God has other use for 
children than our comfort, an use far more honourable 
and happy for them \ and the parents come to see after- 
wards, that it is a peculiar kindness to the poor babes 
they were so early carried off. It likewise serves to 
let into that Word in particular, in its sweetness, " I 
will be thy God, and the God of thy seed," while 
parents are taken up for the salvation of their dying 

* Frasefs Life and Diary of the Rev. Ebenezer Erskine. 
[Ebenezer— brother of the famous Ralph Erskine— was born on 
the 22nd of June, 1680; ordained at Portmoak, Kinross-shire, in 
September, 1703, where he laboured as a faithful minister for 
twenty-eight years. In 1731, he removed to Stirling, where he 
continued a valiant "ambassador for Christ" till, on the 2nd of 
June, 1754, in his seventy-fourth year, the Divine Master called 
him to his rest and reward.] 



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321 



little ones, and look about to see what the Word says 
with relation to the case. 0 do not grudge the freedom 
the Lord has used with you, in pitching upon a precious 
thing for Himself, and taking it away ! Both of you 
have offered your all to the Lord; and though, when 
it comes to the pinch, the heart is ready to misgive, 
yet in calm blood I am sure you will stand to the 
bargain, and check yourselves for any semblance of 
repenting. The next time you see your child, you 
will see him shining white in glory, having been 
washed in the blood of the Lamb, who was an infant, 
a child, a boy, a youth, as well as a grown man; be^ 
cause He became a Saviour of infants, little children, 
&c. 3 as well as of persons come at age. Perhaps his 
cries are not out of your or his mother's ears, but then 
you will see him capable of managing his harp, as well 
as the saint ftiat died a hundred years old. Ah, ah! 
why are we not thus fully satisfied, and acquiescing 
in the wise management of the great Counsellor, who 
puts clouds and darkness round about Him, bidding 
us follow at His back through the cloud, promising an 
eternal uninterrupted sunshine on the other side? 
" Lord, increase our faith," is a petition we need to be 
often putting up; but I hope the Lord has taught you 
and your spouse resignation to the will of Him who 
does all things well; yet I fiad it is a difficult lesson 
to learn, the flesh still spurns and rises against the rod. 
And, oh! how difficult is it to get our whys and hows 
crucified, and to resolve all into, and rest satisfied in, 
infinite wisdom tempered with new-covenant love? 



322 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Our affliction is returned to an extremity, and the 
storm has blown hard now for some time; but the 
Lord sits on the floods; and though it seems to be 
without all order, yet certainly there is an order in it, 
though imperceptible to our eyes, and the several drops 
keep their ranks, according to the word of God's com- 
mand. — I am, with the most endeared respect, yours, 

Thomas Boston.* 



QUICKENED INTELLIGENCE OF DYING 
CHILDKEN. 

Eey. De, J. R. M'G-Avrtf, Dundee. 

It is generally understood that the reasoning faculty 
in children is not strong. They cannot be expected to 
pursue a strict process of argument; but there are 
thoughts produced apparently without effort, which 
sometimes flash from infantile minds, that transcend 
mere intellect, and might fill the noblest philosophers 
of earth with envy, to find themselves outmastered in 
maturity of thought by babes. I have never heard a 
clearer exposition of gospel truth than has frequently 
been lisped in my hearing from the lips of a dying 
child; and I never expect to find on earth a more fear- 

* The Eev. Thomas Boston, well known as the author of 
"Human Nature in its Four-Fold State," &c, and highly 
esteemed throughout the Christian world, was born at Dunse, 
Berwickshire, on the 17th of March, 1676, and died at Ettrick, 
Selkirkshire, on the 20th of March, 1732, in the fifty-seventh 
year of his age, and thirty-third of his ministry. 



CONSOLATION" 



323 



less confidence of glory in conflict -with death, than I 
have again and again met with in expiring little ones. 
It is for the world to explain how children, infantile in 
every thing else, are found (as many besides the writer 
can attest) matured and ripe in spiritual intelligence 
and conviction ; and how little ones who cannot read* 
reveal aptness of spiritual quotation, and richness of 
spiritual wisdom, which no earthly teaching could 
impart. To me such facts have discovered some of the 
finest lessons of human experience, and they have 
furnished a power of experimental evidence for Chris- 
tianity, which was as attractive as unassailable. One 
little girl of five years, who was labouring under an 
agonizing attack of periosteal inflammation, and who 
filled every visitor with amazement at her fearless faith 
and supernatural joy, when asked the reason, said, 
"There is no death to them that are in Christ; and 
Jesus, who bore such matchless sufferings for us, was 
well able to help us to endure our light afflictions, which 
are but for a moment/' and this was spoken at a time 
when, for two months of agony, only momentary sleep 
had been procured by strong opiates. When asked 
how she had attained to such comfort in her Saviour, 
she said, "Nothing is more easy: I only take home all 
His precious promises to my heart, and they always 
fill me with peace." 

PROFITING BY THE DEATH OF CHILDREN. 

Is not G-od by the happy deaths of children speaking 
words of warning and of consolation to all surviving 



324 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



seniors ? Surely babes and sucklings, less sinful, cannot 
need a Saviour as we need Him, and yet, if they are 
seeking and finding Him, why, muck more, should not 
we? The free grace that is daily blessing these latest 
born equally encloses us within its ranges, and invites 
us to "come up hither/' whither it is calling these young 
ones before us. They are removed from earth that 
heaven may be enriched by their accession, and that 
our hearts may be attracted thither to follow them. 
Few visitations of God have been so abundantly blessed 
for the spiritual good of survivors, and especially of 
parents, as the death of children. The empty and 
agonised heart that has searched around all its desolation 
for comfort, only to be wearied of its way, has been 
compelled at last to go and tell Christ its woe, so that 
in the loss of offspring it has felt its first need of a 
Saviour, and has found Him. Many ripe and exemplary 
Christians are known to me who date their salvation 
from such bereavements. Not long ago, a mother in 
infirm health, adverting to a sudden loss, some years 
before, of three dear children within a few weeks, turned 
to me with tearful eyes and said, " What would have 
become of me but for that great sorrow ! for in my 
anguish of spirit it led me to the gracious Saviour, and 
in all my subsequent heavy sorrows, I have found Him 
an unfailing friend." At the gate of a churchyard in 
which I had more than once seen a lady standing by 
two little graves, she accosted me, and said, "You will 
wonder at the frequency of my visits to this place. 
There are two dear little graves here which I feel it to 



CONSOLATION. 



32-3 



be a sacred duty to frequenu, — not to mourn and repine, 
as the world might suppose, — but to give thanks to 
God for removing my children from me, because, until 
I lost them, I never knew the precious Saviour, who 
has ever since been the happiness of my life." And 
this was said by one of the most matured and heavenly- 
minded persons with whom it has been my privilege to 
be acquainted.* 



DEATH OF THREE CHILDREN IN A 
MISSIONARY'S FAMILY. 

Rev. Richard Knill. 

The Rev. R. Knill, in referring to the death of his 
first-born, at St. Petersburgh, in March, 1825, says: — 
The dear babe is laid out in my study. Rose this 
morning at five, and repaired to my dearest Julia. 
After I had kissed her sweet forehead, and her clay- 
cold purple lips, I took her dear hands in mine, and 
my soul at this moment received unspeakable comfort. 
For, I thought, this hand will never be lifted up against 
God, this heart will never indulge a thought contrary 
to His holy will, this silent tongue will never utter a 
word of rebellion, nor shall the little feet ever be found 
in the broad road that leads to death. I cannot describe 
how happy I felt at the thought of this, while the tears 

Scenes and Characters in a Scottish Pastorate. By Be v. J. E. 
M 'Gavin, D.D., Dundee. London: James Nisbet & Co. Edin- 
burgh : W. Oliphant & Co. 1866. 



326 



WORDS OF COMFORT* 



rolled down my cheek with all the tender emotion of a 
fond father. I thanked God, and took courage, and 
hastening to my wife, related to her how the Lord had 
comforted me. She also was greatly consoled, and we 
prayed together for the Lord to help us through the day. 
Ah ! it was a day never to be forgotten. We committed 
the dear little body to the dust, in full assurance that it 
shall rise again all triumphant and all glorious. (1 
Cor. xv. 42.) Tears have since been our meat day and 
night, but they are sometimes tears of tenderness — 
sometimes of sorrow — sometimes of gratitude! Oh! 
what a precious gospel is our gospel ! What life and 
immortality are brought to light by it! Without it 
we should not know what would become of little child- 
ren, or what will become of ourselves. But, blessed 
be God, we have a sure word of prophecy, to which we 
do well to take heed !" 

In a communication to the directors of the London 
Missionary Society, in July, 1831, Mr. Knill thus 
writes : — 

On Tuesday my little J oseph was seized. The night 
came on, and the child grew worse. It was a night 
long to be remembered. It was spent in watching and 
prayer. The dear little fellow frequently said, 'I thirst/ 
and I believe he never repeated it but I thought of the 
Redeemer and His agonies, and drew comfort from His 
dying love. At four the following morning, when the 
child appeared to be dying, I called my wife into the 
adjoining room, where our two other boys were sleeping, 



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327 



and we kneeled down together, and once more gave up 
ourselves and our offspring to tbe Lord, committing in 
an especial manner the spirit of our Joseph into the 
Saviour's hands. Ah! dear fathers and mothers, who 
have been bereaved of your children, you will understand 
what were our feelings. And now, while we stood in 
silence waiting to see the child expire, another wave 
was preparing to roll over us. A sound from another 
quarter pierced our hearts — 'Johnny is seized!' This 
seemed like a sword in our bones. The disease made 
dreadful havoc on John. He seemed death-seized, 
and amidst tears, and sighs, and groans, and efforts 
of no common kind, he sank into the arms of death 
before noon. So rapidly did death execute his commis- 
sion! In the evening our friends conveyed his body 
to the burying-ground. < Glory be to God! Glory 
be to God! Glory be to God!' were the only words 
which my wife and myself could utter, when we saw 
ourselves so suddenly bereaved; and I hope these 
will be the burden of our song through the ao-es of 
eternity.* 

* The Life of the Rev. Kichard KnilL By Charles M. Birrell, 
Liverpool. London: James Nisbet & Co. [This zealous and 
singularly-useful missionary was born at Braunton, on the 14th 
of April, 1787; ordained at Leeds, as a missionary to the heathen 
in October, 1815; and died at Chester, in the faith of a glorious 
immortality, on January 2, 1857, aged seventy years.] 



328 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE SAVIOUR AMIDST A GROUP OF 
CHILDREN. 

Rev. Dr. Steane, London. 

No reader of sensibility, as he peruses the gospels, but 
stops to adniire that beautiful incident when there 
were brought unto Him little children that he should 
put His hands on them and pray; and the disciples 
rebuked them. But J esus said, " Suffer little children 
to come unto Me, and forbid them not : for of such is 
the kingdom of heaven." What a sweet picture it is : 
the incarnate Son of God seated amidst a group of 
little children, taking some up in His arms, putting 
His hands on others, caressing them all, pronouncing 
His blessing upon them, and commending them in 
prayer to God. How must it have gladdened the 
hearts of these parents to have witnessed His con- 
descension to their little ones, and to have heard, in 
the reproof He gave to His disciples, His implied com- 
mendation of their conduct in bringing them to Him ! 
It was a scene fitted to excite the admiration of all 
observers, and to win for our Lord the esteem and 
affection of every heart. Thus did He verify the pro- 
phetic description of His character, "He shall feed 
His flock like a shepherd; He shall gather the lambs 
with His arm, and carry them in His bosom."* 

* Bereaved Parents Comforted. By Edward Steane. P.D 
London : James Nisbet & Co. 



CONSOLATIOX. 



329 



MYSTERY DISPELLED. 
Kev. H. T. Howat, Liverpool. 

There will be no mysteries of providence in heaven. 
For example, why little children die will no longer be 
a mystery. Even with onr Bibles in our hands, and 
strong faith in our hearts, I confess it is sometimes a 
mystery here. Through our blinding, burning tears, we 
are very apt to wonder why these household treasures— 
the flowers of home, the poetry of earth, with their 
sweet looks and their artless ways, their blithe footsteps 
and their merry laughing, all ignorant alike of the cares 
and sorrows and sins of a rough world without— are 
taken from us. But in heaven the riddle will all be 
read. Seeing our little lambs at the feet of Jesus, we 
shall feel that "the Master had need of them." Glorified 
spirits around the throne, we shall feel their removal 
was only Jesus as of old "taking them up in His arms 
to bless them." Ah ! bereaved parents, if some of God's 
ways are mystery, yet remember that all God's ways 
are mercy. What treasure is not yours ! as Ebenezer 
Erskine said when he had lost four little children— 
" So much plenishing in heaven before me." 

Leave God alone ■ He knows what He is doin* • and 
if He take your little ones to Himself, I do not say 
Don't weep,— as well tell the clouds not to rain,— but 
I do say, Don't be always weeping, for theirs is a 
happy exchange. And oh! bereaved parents; receive 
the lesson as well as the dispensation. Let it be true 



330 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



of yon, " A little child shall lead them:' What if the 
children be saved and the parents be lost ; if a part of 
yourselves be in heaven, and you elsewhere? Follow the 
lambs, then, to the good Shepherd's fold. * 



A TRANSPLANTED FLOWER. 

Wm. B. Bradbtjky, Musical Composer. 

Katie is gone. Where I To heaven. An angel 
came, and took her away. She was a lovely child — 
gentle as a lamb; the pet of the whole family; the 
youngest of them all. But she could not stay with us 
any longer. She had an angel sister in heaven, who 
was waiting for her. The angel sister was with us only 
a few months, but she has been in heaven many years, 
and she must have loved Katie, for everybody loved 
her. The loveliest flowers are often soonest plucked. 
If a little voice sweeter and more musical than others 
was heard, I knew Katie was near. If my study-door 
opened so gently and slyly that no sound could be 
heard, I knew Katie was coming. If, after an hour's 
quiet play, a little shadow passed me, and the door 
opened and shut as no one else could open and shut it 
" so as not to disturb papa," I knew Katie was going. 
When, in the midst of my composing, I heard a gentle 
voice saying, "Papa, may I stay with you a little 
while I I will be very still," I did not need to look off 

* Sabbath Hours : a Series of Meditations on Gospel Themes. By 
Rev. EL T. Hovrat, Liverpool. Edin. : Johnstone, Hunter, & Co. 



CONSOLATION. 



ray work, to assure me that it was my little lamb. 
You stayed with me too long, Katie dear, to leave me 
so suddenly; and you are too still now. You became 
my little assistant — my home angel — my youngest and 
sweetest singing-bird, and I miss the little voice that 
I have heard in the adjoining room, catching up and 
echoing little snatches of melody as they were being 
composed. I miss those soft and sweet kisses. I miss 
the little hand that was always first to be placed upon 
my forehead, to " drive away the pain." I miss the 
sound of those little feet upon the stairs. I miss the 
little knock at my bed-room door in the morning, and 
the triple good-night kiss in the evening. I miss the 
sweet smiles from the sunniest of faces. I miss — oh ! 
how I miss the foremost in the little group who came 
out to meet me at the gate for the first kiss. I do not 
stoop so low now, Katie, to give that first kiss. I 
miss you at the table, and at family worship. I miss 
your voice in "/ want to be an angel" for nobody 
could sing it like you. I miss you in my rides and 
walks. I miss you in the garden. I miss you every- 
where; bat I will try not to miss you in heaven. 
" Papa, if we are good, will an angel truly come and 
take us to heaven when we die'?" When the question 
was asked, how little did I think the angel was so 
near! But he did "truly" come, and the sweet 
flower is translated to a more genial clime. "I do 
wish papa would come." Wait a little while, Katie, 
and papa will come. The journey is not long. He 
will soon be " Home." 



332 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



CHILDREN, " GOD'S HERITAGE. ' 

Rev. Henry Allox, London. 

What a beautiful form of life is childhood ! Its pure 
and tender physical beauty is but a faint emblem of 
its intellectual and moral conditions. Its very imper- 
fections — its helplessness and ignorance — constitute 
its exquisite charm ; the roughest men confess it, the 
most sorrowful women are soothed by it, guilt feels a 
kind of awe at it, and vice is softened and purified by 
it ; it inspires ambition with regrets, it melts impeni- 
tence to tears. A child is God's angel on earth — 
fresh, as it were, from His presence, and full of divine 
ministries — softening, humanizing, and sanctifying. 
It is a link that connects the busy life of this world 
with the solemn and mysterious world of spirits. 

What a blessed and beautiful order of being it 
is ! Suppose that human life had no childhood — 
that men entered the world in the full power, and 
roughness, and unsanctity of adult manhood — how 
hard and untractable a thing life would be ! how 
destitute of the experiences that preciously teach 
it — of the influences that beneficially mould it ! How 
inestimable the experiences and processes whereby we 
pass from helplessness, and ignorance, and innocence, 
to strength, and knowledge, and holiness ! Bad as we 
may be, we should be a thousand times worse — desti- 
tute of the memories and experiences of childhood. 
Very precious, therefore, is God's gift of children. They 
are special means of grace to us — special ministers of 



CONSOLATION, 



333 



spiritual thoughts and things. A wonderful Bible for 
a parent to read is a little child, a wonderful spiritual 
influence for a parent to feel — almost an incarnation 
of the Holy Spirit himself. Even the recollections of 
childhood — of its purity, freedom, and blessedness — will 
break in upon the hardened spirit of a guilty man, 
and he will weep in very sadness over the memory of 
what he once was. The providence of God repeats, as 
it were, our own childhood in that of our children — 
our own experience is reproduced in theirs. Children 
teach parents more, perhaps, than parents teach chil- 
dren ; in a thousand ways they bring down heavenly 
thoughts and things upon parents' hearts. Who can 
take a child up into his arms and look into its pure 
face, and into the transparent depths of its guileless 
soul, and see its freedom from care, suspicion, and sin, 
without deep and manifold thoughts and feelings con- 
cerning the soul, and God, and the possibilities of life. 
A child comes to us as if direct from God himself; 
it lives in our homes long before the fair picture 
and lesson of innocence is blurred arid effaced by sin. 
Is" o ministry so appeals to human hearts. 

" Heaven lies about us in our infancy." 

"We muse and wonder as we look upon a child's face, 
until it grows almost divine, and we are half " afraid 
to look upon God." 

What a deep religiousness appeals to us in a child ! 
How simply it prays — how implicitly it believes — 
how reverently it feels ! It has to learn to disbelieve. 



334: 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



What a lesson to our hard, unspiritual, unbelieving 
nature is the simple, pure, and beautiful religiousness 
of a child. Thank God our seared, battered hearts 
come day by day into contact with the gentle inno- 
cence, purity, and love of children. Thank God 
we are all children before we are men and women. 
Happy is he who is wise enough, and humble enough, 
to learn the lessons that his child teaches him. 

Iso wonder that Christ himself takes a little child and 
makes him the exemplar of His new kingdom. While 
the worldly teacher of a child is ever summoning him 
to manhood, the spiritual teacher of a man is ever re- 
calling him to childhood. Christ bids us return to 
the guileless consciousness, the pure feelings of child- 
hood. We must re-live our child-life ; reproduce our 
child - consciousness ; realise again the sinless and 
simple experience of childhood * become as we were 
when little children — humble, docile, pure, believing, 
prayerful — or we shall be unable to "receive" the 
kingdom of heaven, and unfitted to "enter" therein. 

It is but natural, therefore, that, in the Bible, chil- 
dren should be represented as the very choicest of 
God's gifts. They are God's "heritage" — that which 
He gives as our very richest portion in life. How 
enthusiastically the Eibie always speaks of them as 
such ! We never meet with a dubious estimate of 
them, with a faltering congratulation. Everywhere 
they are spoken of rapturously and exultingly, as 
the very crown of earthly blessings. Like all life, 
they come more directly than other things from the 



CONSOLATION. 



335 



hand of God himself. They are His precious gift — 
His " heritage." 

We do not always so conceive of them. Pure, 
unselfish, and self-sacrificing as parental love is — the 
holiest and most perfect of all our human affections 
even it is capable of being deteriorated by circum- 
stances, corrupted by wrong and sinful feeling. It is 
not every parent that receives a child as God's c; heri- 
tage." A precious thing it may be to him, but not 
a gift from God. Other feelings of joy it may awaken, 
and yet not a feeling of religious gratitude : other 
obligations it may create, and yet not the obligation 
to learn and to teach religious lessons. "VTe may <; taiie 
the child and nurse it" for our own parental joy— for 
our social, or commercial, or ambitious purposes— and 
yet not " nurse it for God." Every feeling of joy 
may be awakened by it except religious joy; every 
sense of obligation except religious obligation. It 
ought to expel all selfishness, to purify and intensify 
conjugal love, and to multiply it by a new affection — 
and yet selfishness may feel a child a restriction 
upon social pleasure, a tax upon worldly gain. It 
ought to inspire thoughtfulneis and faith; — it is an 
entrustment so high and holy— a soul to train for 
God, and heaven, and eternity ;— an entrustment 
accompanied by great promise, connected with the 
highest joys and with the greatest destinies; — and 
yet the highest thoughts and purposes inspired by 
it may be selfish and earthly ; or, if pious feeling is 
excited by it, it may be only misgiving and fear — an 



336 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



unbelieving, godless feeling, that, almost as a matter 
of course, it will grow up wicked, and need conversion 
in adult life. 

God's gift of children is intended only for blessing; 

a blessing to pious love and faith; they are a "heri- 
tage," a possession bestowed by the heavenly Father's 
love, and intended to stand in rich spiritual succession 
to us. They are more than spiritual beings, they are 
heirs of our spiritual privilege and piety ; our pious 
parentage is, by God's blessing, to secure their piety. 
It is a privilege which, in the natural order of things, 
should be a blessing to them; it is a plea of power 
which they may urge in prayer, "Truly I am thy 
servant, and the son of thine handmaid." "The pro- 
mise is to us and to our children." If we be faithful 
to our " heritage," it will, as a rule and principle- 
admitting of exceptions, it is true — become the heritage 
of our children. The richest, the most precious, the 
most affluent of all gifts, is God's gift of children: 
beyond wealth, or art, or literature, or social friends, 
or even conjugal love, they enrich and bless a home. 

It is only when we thus intelligently and articu- 
lately realize the manifold blessing of children, that we 
can intelligently speak of the sorrow of their loss. It 
is a great mystery— one of the greatest mysteries of 
life— that so much young life should just bud and 
perish. It is the law of all life that there are more 
fallen blossoms than ripened fruit; but when children 
die it is a sorrow as well as a loss. The pangs of 
birth, the unconsciousness and helplessness of infancy, 



CONSOLATION. 



337 



it may be a few months or years of bright and 
beautiful development — the vague eye brightening 
into intelligent recognition, the vague feebleness 
strengthening into purposed activity, the vague in- 
stinct ripening into a pure and clinging love, health 
and beauty growing day by day; and then — the sudden 
smiting down — the ruthless quenching of that beauti- 
ful spark of life, and it is as if "made in vain." It is 
true that the entrustment has been but short ; there 
has been but little time for mere possession to grow 
into endearment; but strong passionate parental in- 
stinct does in days that for which with other possessions 
years are required, and the death of a child is often a 
deep wound that almost breaks the heart that it- 
lacerates, the scar of which is ever after tender to 
every touch and palpable to every eye. 

But we may not think that because so early taken, 
children have been given in vain. How it would 
change the whole economy of life if children never 
died; if every life that was begun grew up to an 
assured maturity! What an exceptional and, in a 
thousand ways, harmful law of life it would be! 
And is there not more than fancy in the thought 
and the comfort that there are children in heaven 
as well as on earth? If earth would lose were 
only adult life upon it, would not heaven lose also % 
Will they not be in heaven, as on earth, part of the 
softening, sanctifying, endearing agency whereby we 
are ever advancing to perfection % 

And is not a parent, is not a family infinitely better 



WOEDS OF COMFORT. 



for even the transitory presence of a cliilcl in if? Have 
not deep springs of various moral feelings been touched? 
have not our hearts pondered many things as we have 
watched it sleeping, or nursed it waking? has it 
not been, as no other gift could have been, a medium 
through which God's voice has spoken to us 1 has 
not the hardest of us been softened to tears, the j 
most irreligious of us thrilled into prayer ] while, 
in the pious, almost every religious principle and 
emotion has been appealed to more powerfully than 
by any other thing. Were the child to live, the 
feeling might be superseded, the impression effaced, by 
its after developments. It would become a man. Its 
death deepens and perpetuates them. After years are 
passed it is still and must be ever to us a child; and 
all the tender, holy feelings that it appealed to are 
fresh and vivid. 

In many senses Christ says to us, " Suffer the little 
children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of 
such is the kingdom of heaven." If destined to adult 
life on earth, they are to be of His kingdom in child- 
hood, and to retain the heart of childhood, even to old 
age. But we may "live in an inverted order." Parents 
may close the dying eyes of their children; their little 
footsteps may precede ours through the dark valley ; 
our faith may have to put them into the arms of 
Jesus, we being forbidden to go with chem; and our 
fond, blind love may hesitate, so that He may have to 
say to us, " Suffer them, suffer the little children to 
come unto me, and forbid them not." He may have 



CONSOLATION. 339 

need of them for the enrichment, with child-life and 
child-bean ty, of the Father's house which He has gone 
i to " prepare." We know not wherefore He calls this or 
that particular child; and if it be ours that He calls, we 
may refuse to be comforted ; we may cry with a great 
I and bitter cry, " Wherefore hast Thou given them in 
vain?" But do not let us forget that it is into Christ's 
arms that we put them — that it is He who "takes them 
up into His arms and blesses them." They are safer 
( with Him than they could be with us. His love can 
( - do for them what our poor love cannot do. With our 
' children in Christ's arms, we ourselves shall follow 
\ more willingly and eagerly. When our dying hour 

• comes, and we have to commend our spirits into His 

• hands, we shall remember that they are the loving 
| hands which received our children; that He has already 
' taken to himself, as it were, part of us ; our children 
- are "preferred before us;" and we hasten to Kim who 
' has received and blessed them, and to the Father's 

liouse which they gladden and enrich with their pre- 
sence ; and so shall we and the children which God 
\ gave us be for ever with the Lord. 



SAFE WITH CHRIST. 

Rev. Charles Garrett, Manchester. 

|Oh weeping, trembling mother, the Good Shepherd 
jwho carries the lambs in His bosom, looks pityingly 
upon you, and says in loving tones, "Can you not 



340 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



trust your child with Me ?" Surely your heart, in the 
midst of its agony, will reply, " Yes, Lord, I can." 
You have often said to an earthly friend, " I have no 
fear nor anxiety about my child when it is with you" 
And if this be true, for it to be with Christ must be 
far better. Think of His unerring wisdom, His 
almighty power, His boundless resources, His un- 
utterable tenderness, and, above all, His infinite love, 
and your faith will be strengthened and steadied. 
Remember that He loves your sainted child as ten- 
derly as if there were not another child in the 
universe, and, oh, how safe, how happy it must be 
with Him! Bear in mind also that the separation is 
only for a "little while," as little as is consistent with 
your eternal welfare. Your heavenly Father is far 
more anxious to have you in heaven than you are to 
get there. All the events of your life are working 
together for this end. You may not be able to see 
how this can be, but His eyes are clearer than yours. 
He sees the end from the beginning. If, therefore, 
you cannot praise Him for this "fiery trial," don't 
murmur — be " dumb and open not your mouth," be- 
cause He has done it. He will understand your 
silence. "He knoweth our frame, He remembereth 
we are dust." His purposes will soon be accomplished, 
and then amidst the glories of heaven you will meet 
again; so shall you "obtain joy and gladness, and 
sorrow and sighing shall flee away." 



CONSOLATION. 



341 



BUDS OF BEAUTY. 
Rev. Robert Hall. 

This eloquent divine, in speaking of the death of his 
: little boy, says, " God dries up the channels, that you 
1 may be haply compelled to plunge into an infinite 

ocean of happiness. Blissful thought ! Father, mother, 

• you who mourn over the grave of your little one, look 
» up ! know that the chastening rod is in your heavenly 

• Father's hand, and that if He hath taken away, He 
I first did give, and He doeth all things well. He gave 
I you the bud of beauty, and you centred your happiness 
I i in its being. He saw that this was not for your good, 
M so He took away the child, whose presence had been 
: as a leaping, sparkling streamlet to your heart's love, 
I that that heart, which had before tasted of earthly, 
| j might be lost in the immensity of heavenly love. 

It is a very solemn consideration, that a part of 
, myself is in eternity, in the presence, I trust, of the 
i Saviour. How awful will it be, should the branch be 
: ' saved and the stock perish." 



THE FLOWER PLUCKED BY THE MASTER. 

A gentleman's gardener had a darling child, in whom 
: his affections seemed to be centred. The Lord laid 
His hand upon the babe — it sickened and died. The 
father was disconsolate, and murmured at the dealings 
of Providence. 

The gardener had in one of his flower-beds a 



W0BDS OF COMFORT. 



favourite rose. It was the fairest flower he had ever 
seen on the tree, and he daily marked its growing 
beauty, intending, when it was full blown, to send it to 
his master's mansion. One morning it was gone — some 
one had plucked it. Mortified at what he thought 
was the improper conduct of one of the servants, he 
endeavoured to find out the culprit. He was, however, 
much surprised to find that it was his master, who, 
on walking through the garden, had been attracted 
by the beauty of the rose, and, plucking it, had carried 
it to one of the beautiful rooms in the hall. The 
gardener's anger was changed into pleasure. He felt 
reconciled when he heard that his master had thought 
the flower worthy of such special notice. 

"Ah, Richard!" said the gentleman, "you can 
gladly give up the rose, because I thought it worthy 
of a place in my house. And will you repine because 
^our heavenly Father has thought wise to remove 
your child from a world of sin, to be with Himself in 
heaven V 

OUR SAVIOUR'S CARE FOR LITTLE CHILDREN. 

Rsv. Peter Mearns, Coldstream. 

J esus admits children into His kingdom. He says, " Suffer 
the little children to come unto me, and forbid them 
not." Permit, and do not prohibit — this is surely 
a complete permission. Our Saviour's words imply 
that He approved of the conduct of the parents, and 
would not allow them to be discouraged in their well- 



CONSOLATION. 343 

meant act. He does not say. Suffer them to he brought, 
but, "Suffer them to come," as if to include an 
encouragement to them to come themselves so soon as 
they are able. The loving heart of a Christian parent 
-would prompt him to bring his child to the Lord by 

8 prayer ; and, if not permitted expressly, he would be 
disposed to ask permission. But he has here all the 
encouragement he needs. The children are admitted 
into His church — His kingdom on earth ; and in due 
time they will be admitted into heaven — His kingdom 
above. Those who have brought their children to 
Christ, and afterwards lost them by an early death, 
will find in this passage a sweet source of consolation. 
Their dear little ones have left earth, but they are with 
Christ and the angels above. In answer to the parent's 
prayer, He blessed the children on earth, but He has 

3 now blessed them much more in heaven. 



BETTER TO BE WITH CHRIST. 

Rev. De, Doddridge. 

Could I wish that this young inhabitant of heaven 
should be degraded to earth again 1 Or would it thank 
me for that wish'? "Would it say that it was the part 
of a wise parent to call it down from a sphere of such 
exalted services and pleasures to our low life here upon 
earth? Let me rather be thankful for the pleasing 
hope, that though God loves my child too well to per- 
mit it to return to me. He will ere long bring me to it. 



344 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And then that endeared paternal affection, which would 
have been a cord to tie me to earth, and have added 
new pangs to my removal from it, will be as a golden 
chain to draw me upwards, and add one farther charm 
and joy even to Paradise itself. And oh, how great a 
joy to view the change, and to compare that dear idea ? 
so fondly laid up, so often reviewed, with the now 
glorious original, in the improvement of the upper 
world! Was this my desolation, this my sorrow, to 
part with thee for a few days, that I might receive 
thee for ever, and find thee what thou art ? It is for no 
language but that of heaven to describe the sacred joy 
which such a meeting must occasion! 

"Lord," should each of us say in such a case, "I 
would take what Thou art doing to my child as done to 
myself, and as a specimen and earnest of what shall 
shortly be done." It is therefore well. 

The same judicious commentator makes the follow- 
ing reflection on Matt. xix. 14 : — Let parents view 
this sight with pleasure and thankfulness : let it en- 
courage them to bring their children to Christ by faith 
and to commit them to Him by prayer. And if He 
who has the keys of death and the unseen world 
(Eev. i. 18), see fit to remove those dear creatures 
from us in their early days, let the remembrance ot 
this story comfort us, and teach us to hope that He 
who so graciously received these children has not 
forgotten ours, but that they are sweetly fallen asleep 
in Him, and will be the everlasting objects of His 
care and love; "for of such is the kingdom of God." 



CONSOLATION. 



3±o 



A SCENE FROM "UNCLE TOM'S CABIN." 

Mrs. Harriet Beeches, Stowe. 

Eliza looked up at Mrs. Bird with a keen scrutinisino- 
glance, and it did not escape her that she was dressed 
in deep mourning. 

" Ma'am," she said, suddenly, "have you ever lost a 
child?" 

The question was unexpected, and it was a thrust 
on a new wound; for it was only a month since a 
darling child of the family had been laid in the grave. 

Mr. Bird turned round and walked to the window 
and Mrs. Bird burst into tears; but recovering her 
voice, she said — 

" Why do you ask that 2 I have lost a little one." 

" Then you will feel for me. I have lost two, one 
after another— left 'em buried there when I came 
away; and I bad only this one left. I never slept a 
night without him; he was all I had. He was my 
comfort and pride, day and night ; and, ma'am, they 
were going to take him away from me— to sell him— 
sell him down south, ma'am, to go all alone— a baby 
that had never been away from his mother in his life ! 
I couldn't stand it ma'am. I knew I never should be 
good for anything if they did; and when I knew the 
papers were signed, and he was sold, I took him and 
came off in the night; and they chased me— the man 
that bought him, and some of masVs folks— and they 
were coming down right behind me, and I heard 'em. 



346 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



I jumped right on to the ice, and how I got across I 
don't know; but, first I knew, a man was helping me 
up the hank." .... 

The senator, addressing his wife on behalf of the 
poor bereaved runaway, said — 

" Mary, I don't know how you'd feel about it, but 
there's that drawer full of things— of— of— poor little 
Henry's." So saying, he turned quickly on his heel, 
and shut the door after him. 

His wife opened the little bed-room door adjoining 
her room, and, taking the candle, set it down on the 
top of a bureau there; then from a small recess she 
took a key, and put it thoughtfully in the lock of a 
drawer, and made a sudden pause, while two boys, 
who, boy-like, had followed close on her heels, stood 
looking, with silent, significant glances, at their mother. 
And, O mother that reads this, has there never been 
in your house, a drawer or a closet, the opening of 
which has been to you like the opening again of a 
little grave 1 Ah! happy mother that you are, if it 
has not been so 1 

Mrs. Bird slowly opened the drawer. There were 
little coats of many a form and pattern, piles of aprons, 
and rows of small stockings; and even a pair of little 
shoes, worn and rubbed at the toes, were peeping from 
the folds of a paper. There was a toy horse and waggon, 
a top, a ball— memorials gathered with many a tear and 
many a heart-break ! She sat down by the drawer, 
and leaning her head on her hands over it, wept till the 
tears fell through her fingers into the drawer; then, 



CONSOLATION. 



347 



suddenly raising her head, she began, with nervous 
haste, selecting the plainest and most substantial 
articles, and gathering them into a bundle. 

"Mamma," said one of the boys, gently touching her 
arm, "are you going to give away those things T 

" My dear boys," she said, softly and earnestly, "if 
our dear, loving little Henry looks down from heaven, he 
would be glad to have us do this. I could not find it in 
my heart to give them away to any common person — 
to anybody that was happy; but I give them to a 
mother more heart broken and sorrowful than I am ; 
and I hope God will send His blessings with them 1" 

There are in this world blessed souls, whose sorrows 
all spring up into joys for others ; whose earthly hopes, 
laid in the grave with many tears, are the seed from 
which spring healing flowers and balm for the desolate 
and the distressed. Among such was the delicate 
woman who sits there by the lamp, dropping slow tears, 
while she prepares the memorials of her own lost one 
for the outcast wanderer. 



REV. DR. R. WINTER HAMILTON, LEEDS. 

Infants, whose undeveloped minds cannot apprehend 
and appreciate the blessings of salvation, are saved. 
We doubt not their entrance into the kingdom of 
heaven. We doubt it not of all, whatever their 
descent, who die at that early age— the age which pre- 
cludes moral discernment, and, therefore, responsibility. 



348 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



We see in the initial visible ordinance of Christianity 
the pledge of this, affirming it, however, as a universal 
truth, a truth which is quite independent of the em- 
blematic rite. It was always, it is invariably, a fact. 
That service intimates both the fact and the manner 
of it. All dying at that period are blessed : all dying 
at that period are cleansed for that blessedness. 
Christianity, in this beautiful institute, meets them 
with assurance of its grace on the threshold of life, 
and with assurance of its glory on the threshold of 
eternity. A rite may be significant of it, may give 
certitude to it, but cannot operate to help the effect. 
We are satisfied that this arrangement depends upon 
the mediatorial system. We suspend it upon the 
atonement. But rather speak we now of that effect 
secured to departed infants in their glorification. 
This cannot be a claim. It is grace and favour. It 
is this which belongs to the death of Christ. We 
cannot think that their condemnation could consist 
with moral righteousness. They are guiltless. They 
are not conclemnable. We speculate not as to the 
treatment which they might have otherwise received. 
It is certain that it would have been just. The sacri- 
fice of the cross has precluded inquiry by a new and 
merciful arrangement of the case.* 

* Tlie Revealed Doctrine of Rewards and Punishments. By 
Richard Winter Hamilton, LL.D., D.D. London: Jackson. 
WaJfordj & Hodder. 



CONSOLATION* 



349 



GONE TO SLEEP. 

Archbishop Leightox. 

Indeed, it was a sharp stroke of a pen that told me 
your pretty Johnny was dead. Sweet thing ! and is he 
so quickly laid asleep] Happy lie. Though we shall 
have no more the pleasure of his lisping and laughing, 
he shall have no more the pain of crying, nor being 
sick, nor of dying; and hath wholly escaped the troubles 
of schooling, and all other sufferings of boys, and the 
riper and deeper griefs of riper years; this poor life being 
all alone nothing but a linked chain of manv sorrows 
and many deaths. Tell my dear sister she is now much 
more akin to the other world; and this will be quickly 
passed by us all. John has but gone an hour or two 
sooner to bed, as children used to do, and we are un- 
dressing to follow. And the more we put off the love 
of this present world, and all things superfluous before- 
hand, we shall have the less to do when we lie down. 



THE CROWN OF LIFE. 

Rev. Richard Cecil. 

I PERCEIVE I did not know how much my life was 
bound up in the life of a creature; when she went, 
nothing seemed left me; one is not, and the rest seem 
a few thin and scattered remains. And yet how much 
better for my lamb to be suddenly housed — to slip 



350 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



unexpectedly into the fold to which. I was conducting 
her, than remain exposed here ; perhaps become a victim! 
I cried, "O Lord, spare my child!" He did; but not 
as I meant; He snatched it from danger, and took it 
to His own home. — Part of myself is already gone to 
Thee ; help what remains to follow ! 

He who removed our infant has seemed to say, 
"What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt 
know hereafter; patiently suffer this little one to come 
unto me, for of such is my kingdom composed. Verily, 
I say unto you, their angels do always behold the face 
of my Father. If I take away your child, I take it 
away to Myself. Is not this infinitely beyond anything 
you could do for if? Could you say to it, if it had 
lived, thou shalt " weep no more, the days of thy mourn- 
ing are ended] 5 ' Could you show it anything in this 
world like "the glory of God and of the Lamb]" Could 
you raise it to any honour here like 'receiving a crown 
of life? " 



JOHN FLAVEL ON THE LOSS OF CHILDREN. 

Mourner, whatever may be your grief for the death 
of your children, it might have been still greater for 
their life. Bitter experience once led a good man to 
say, "It is better to weep for ten children dead, than 
for one living." 

God may have taken the lamented objects of your 
affection from the evil to come. "When extraordinary 
calamities are coming on the world, He frequently hides 



CONSOLATION. 



351 



some of his feebler children in the grave. Surely, at 
such a portentous period, it is happier for such as are 
prepared to be lodged in that peaceful mansion than to 
be exposed to calamities and distresses here. 



TWO IN HEAVEN. 

Fanny Fern. 

"You have two children]"' said I. "I have four," 
was the reply; "two on earth, two in heaven." There 
spoke the mother! Still hers, only "gone before!" 
Still remembered, loved, and cherished, by the hearth 
and at the board — their places not yet filled; even 
though their successors draw life from the same faithful 
breast where their dying heads were pillowed. " Two 
in heaven!" Safely housed from storm and tempest. 
]So sickness there, no drooping head, nor fading eye, 
nor weary feet. By the green pastures, tended by the 
good Shepherd, linger the little lambs of the heavenly 
fold. "Two in heaven!" Earth less attractive. Eter- 
nity nearer. Invisible cords drawing the maternal 
soul upwards. "Still small voices" ever whispering, 
Come ! to the world-weary spirit. "Two in heaven 1" 
Mother of angels ! Walk softly ! — holy eyes watch thy 
footsteps ! — cherub forms bend to listen ! Keep thy 
spirit free from earth-taint; so shalt thou "go to them," 
though "they may not return to thee !" 



352 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



SUNSHINE ON LITTLE GRAVES. 

Rev. John Albert Bengel. 

The following is an extract from a letter written by 
this eminent German divine, about 1720, to his 
parents, after the funeral of a beloved child, aged 
twelve months :— 

As I reclined my head upon my dying child's little 
couch, I thought I could gladly die with it that 
moment. After its precious soul was departed, I went 
into the room where it was laid out, and reclined again 
by the side of it, to repose a while; and again thought, 
how desirable such an exchange must be. David, at 
his wretched Absalom's death, was urged by his feelings 
to exclaim, " 0 that I had died for thee !" But there 
was no need for me to use such lamentation as this for 
a child that had never lived to enter into the seductions 
of a wicked world. In my own case it was sufficient 
that I could utter the sweet plaint of a Christian 
parent's love, "0 that I had died with thee." 

The bills of mortality show that more than half the 
human race die in infancy and childhood. As God, 
then, gave us five children, and has now taken away 
three, we are not to think ourselves more hardly dealt 
with than others; especially as those dear little ones 
have doubtless entered on a good exchange. 

At the funeral I accepted the condolence and 
consolations of kind friends, as heartily as if I had 
possessed no stock of these for myself; and thus God, 



CONSOLATION. 



353 



by their mouth, sent me many a good word in season, 
particularly about the communion we still share in 
the total number of our dear children, who are distri- 
buted at present between earth and heaven; likewise, 
about the mutual recognition of friends, whom we 
shall meet in a better world. As we walked from the 
house behind the corpse, I looked up to the serene 
heaven, and my mind itself became as serene as if no 
such funeral were going on. In the churchyard, 
after the coffin lid was removed, and the bunches of 
flowers which had been fastened to the white pall, 
were added to the rest inside, I beheld once more the 
face of our blessed child. The sun was shim' no- with 
overpowering brightness in the cloudless sky, and I 
could not forbear saying to the bystanders, as I pointed 
first to the corpse and then to the sun, " So will that 
dear child look, which is now no longer like itself." 
Animated as I felt with such a hope, I could easily 
have taken the shovel out of the sexton's hands, and 
myself have done the office of closing up the little 
chamber of rest; although, when my first-born, our 
dear little Albert Frederic, was buried, the sight of 
the ceremony at that time made such a sad disturbance 
in my heart. But, on the present occasion, I went 
from the grave into the church with so much cheer- 
fulness of spirit, that I even wished the remainder of 
the service could have been reserved for the time of 
my own departure. 



354 



W0KDS OF COMFORT. 



WILBERFORCE'S DELIGHT IN CHILDREN. 

I delight in little children; I could spend hours in 
watching them. How much is there in them that the 
Saviour loved, when He took a little child and set him 
in the miclst! Their simplicity, their confidence in 
you, the fund of happiness with which the Creator 
has endowed them, so that when intelligence is less 
developed, and so affords less enjoyment, the natural 
spirits are an inexhaustible fund of infantine pleasure. 



CELESTIAL CHORISTERS. 

Two children were one day seen very ill in the same 
room. The elder of the two was heard frequently 
attempting to teach the younger one to pronounce the 
word "Hallelujah!" but without success: the dear 
little one died before he could repeat it. When his 
brother Was told of his death he was silent for a 
momenb, and then, looking up to his mother, said, 
Johnny can say Hallelujah now, mother! In a few 
hours the two little brothers were united in heaven, 
singing Hallelujah together. 



HELEN PLUMPTRE. 

mansion above is filling, and your cottage on 
earth emptying, and what is the language of this dis- 
pensation? Onwards, onwards! Upwards, upwards 1 



CONSOLATION. 



355 



REV. DR. WARDLAW, GLASGOW, 
Till we see our children in suffering we never fully 
understand the Divine comparison, so full of conde- 
scending kindness, "Like as a father pitieth his 
children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him. 5 ' 
Our feelings then become a commentary to us, as if 
written on our hearts with the very finger of God, on 
such gracious assurances. And when little children 
are taken away from us, how precious are the Saviour's 
words, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven!" On such 
occasions He seems to say, with the smile of pitying 
love, "Suffer your little children to come unto me." 



TREASURE IN HEAVEN. 
Mahy Howitt. 
If parents did but know what a treasure they have 
stored up for them in the other world when one of 
their beloved children is called away from this, how 
the sting of death, so called, would be removed. That 
so called death is the birth into the real life — the still 
nearer communion with God the Saviour. Truly the 
child is not dead, but only gone before. 



ELLIOT. 

My desire was that my children should have served 
Christ on earth, but if God will choose to have them 
rather serve Him in heaven, I have nothing to object 
to it j His will be done ! 



356 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



A THORNLESS SORROW. 
D. M. Mom, the " Delta" of Blackwood. 

The following is an extract from a letter, dated Mussel- 
burgh, 8th January, 1845, addressed by Dr. Moir, on 
the receipt of a favourite volume, to a friend, whose 
child he had been attending professionally: — 

The gift has only one drawback . "Would, so far as 
our weak eyes can see, that it had been ordained that 
I should receive it from other hands than yours ! This 
was not to be, and for wise purposes, although we see 
them not. The loss and the grief are to those who are 
left behind : to him these cannot be. Yet a little while, 
and the end cometh to us also; and we, who would 
detain those we love, ourselves almost as quickly go. 

Speaking from sad experience, a long time must yet 
elapse ere you and his mother will be able to look 
back on your deprivation with philosophic and unim- 
passioned minds, or be able to dissever the ivhat must 
be from the what might have been. But when that time 
does come, you will find that the lamentation for an 
innocent child is a thornless sorrow; and that the sted- 
fast faith, through the Redeemer, of meeting him 
again, and for ever, can lend a joy to grief. 



POETRY. 



CAS A WAPPY.* 
D. M. Mom, the "Delta" of Blackwood, 

And hast thou sought thy heavenly home, 

Our fond, dear boy — 
The realms where sorrow dare not come, 

Where life is joy ? 
Pure at thy death, as at thy birth, 
Thy spirit caught no taint from earth, 
Even by its bliss we mete our dearth, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Despair was in our last farewell, 

As closed thine eye ; 
Tears of our anguish may not tell 

When thou didst die ; 
Words may not paint our grief for thee, 
Sighs are but bubbles on the sea 
Of our unfathom'd agony, 

Casa Wappy ! 

* The self-appellative of a beloved child— Charles Bell Moir, who died 
17th February, 1838, aged four and a half years. The piece that follows, 
entitled " Wee Willie, 1 ' was written upon the death of William Blackwood 
Moir, who died at the age of fifteen months, on 28th February, 1838. The 
next piece— " Elegiac Stanzas," was written in memory of David Macbeth 
Moir, who died 23rd August, 1839, aged four years and four months. 

We feel much indebted to Mrs. Moir for her generous permission, 
not only to re-insert " Casa Wappy " and " Wee Willie," but also to enrich 
the present edition by the beautiful lines in remembrance of another 
fine boy, and the closing stanzas of " Casa's Dirge." 



358 



WOKDS OF COMFORT. 



Thou wert a vision of delight — 

To bless us given ; 
Beauty embodied to our sight — 

A type of heaven : 
So dear to us thou wert, thou art 
Even less thine own self than a part 
Of mine and of thy mother's heart, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Thy bright, brief day knew no decline — 

'Twas cloudless joy; 
Sunrise and night alone were thine, 

Beloved boy ! 
This morn beheld thee blithe and gay ; 
That found thee prostrate in decay ; 
And, ere a third shone, clay was clay, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Gem of our hearth, our household pride, 

Earth's undefiled, 
Could love have saved, thou hadst not died, 

Our dear, sweet child ! 
Humbly we bow to Fate's decree ; 
Yet had we hoped that Time should see 
Thee mourn for us, not us for thee, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Do what I may, go where I will, 

Thou meet'st my sight ; 
There dost thou glide before me still — 

A form of light ! 
I feel thy breath upon my cheek, 
I see thee smile, I hear thee speak, 
Till oh ! my heart is like to break, 
Casa Wappy ! 



CASA WAPPY. 



Methinks thou smil'st before me now, 

With glance of stealth. ; 
The hair thrown back from thy full brow, 

In buoyant health : 
I see thine eyes' deep violet light, 
Thy dimpled cheek carnation'd bright, 
Thy clasping arms so round and white, 
Casa Wappy ! 

The nursery shows thy pictured wall, 

Thy bat, thy bow, 
Thy cloak and bonnet, club and ball ; 

But where art thou ? 
A corner holds thine empty chair ; 
Thy playthings idly scattered there 
But speak to us of our despair, 

Casa Wappy ! 

Even to the last, thy every word — 

To glad — to grieve — 
Was sweet, as sweetest song of bird 

On summer's eve ; 
In outward beauty undecay'd, 
Death o'er thy spirit cast no shade, 
And like the rainbow thou didst fade, 
Casa Wappy ! 

We mourn for thee, when blind blank night 

The chamber fills ; 
We pine for thee, when morn's first light 

Reddens the hills ; 
The sun, the moon, the stars, the sea, 
All — to the wall -flower and wild-pea — 
Are changed : we saw the world thro' thee, 
Casa Wappy ! 



360 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And though, perchance, a smile may gleam 

Of casual mirth, 
It doth not own, whate'er may seem, 

An inward birth : 
We miss thy small step on the stair • 
We miss thee at thine evening prayer ! 
All day we miss thee — every where — 
Casa Wappy ! 

Snows muffled earth when thou didst go, 

In life's spring-bloom, 
Down to the appointed house below — 

The silent tomb. 
But now the green leaves of the tree, 
The cuckoo, and "the busy bee," 
Return ; but with them bring not thee, 
Casa Wappy ! 

'Tis so ; but can it be — (while flowers 

Revive again) — 
Man's doom, in death that we and ours 

For aye remain ? 
Oh ! can it be, that, o'er the grave, 
The grass renew'd should yearly wave, 
Yet God forget our child to save ? — 
Casa Wappy ! 

It cannot be ; for were it so 

Thus man could die, 
Life were a mockery — Thought were woe — 

And Truth a lie — 
Heaven were a coinage of the brain — 
Religion frenzy — Virtue vain — 
And all our hopes to meet again, 

Casa Wappy ! 



WEE WILLIE. 



361 



Then be to us, 0 dear, lost child ! 

With beain of love, 
A star, death's uncongenial wild 

Smiling above ! 
Soon, soon, thy little feet have trod 
The skyward path, the seraph's road, 
That led thee back from man to God, 
Casa Trappy ! 

Yet, 'tis sweet balm to our despair, 

Fond, fairest boy, 
That heaven is God's, and thou art there, 

With Him in joy ! 
There past are death and all its woes. 
There beauty's stream for ever flows, 
And pleasure's day no sunset knows, 
Casa Wappy ! 

Farewell, then— for a while, farewell— 

Pride of my heart ! 
It cannot be that long we dwell 

Thus torn apart : 
Time's shadows like the shuttle flee ; 
And dark howe'er life's night may be. 
Beyond the grave I'll meet with thee. 

Casa Wappy ! * 



WEE WILLIE. 
D. Jl Mom. 

Fare-thee-well, our last and fairest.. 

Dear wee Willie, fare-thee-well ! 
God, who lent thee, hath recall'd thee 

Back, with Him and His to dwell : 

* Edinburgh : William Blackwood & Sons 
A 2 



362 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Fifteen moons their silver lustre 

Only o'er thy brow had shed, 
When thy spirit join'd the seraphs, 

And thy dust the dead. 

Like a sunbeam, thro' our dwelling- 
Shone thy presence, bright and calm ; 

Thou didst add a zest to pleasure, 
To our sorrows thou wert balm ; — 

Brighter beam'd thine eyes than summer ; 
And thy first attempt at speech 

Thrill'd our heartstrings with a rapture 
Music ne'er could reach. 

As we gazed upon thee sleeping, 

With thy fine fair locks outspread, 
Thou didst seem a little angel, 

Who to earth from heaven had stray'd; 
And, entranced, we watch' d the vision, 

Half in hope, and half affright, 
Lest what we deem'd ours, and earthly, 

Should dissolve in light. 

Snows o'ermantled hill and valley, 

Sullen clouds begrimed the sky, 
When the first drear doubt oppress' d us, 

That our child was doom'd to die. 
Through each long night-watch, the taper 

Showed the hectic of his cheek ; 
And each anxious dawn beheld him 

More worn out and weak. 

Oh, the doubts, the fears, the anguish, 
Of a parent's brooding heart, 

W r hen despair is hovering round it. 
And yet hope will scarce depart — 



WEE WILLIE. 



363 



When each transient flush of fever 
Omens health's returning light, 

Only to involve the watchers 
'Mid intenser night ! 

1 Twas even then Destruction's angel 

Shook his pinions o'er our path, 
Seized the rosiest of our household, 

And struck Charlie down in death ! 
Fearful, awful! Desolation 

On our lintel set his sign ; 
And we turn'd from his quick death-scene, 

Willie, round to thine ! 

Like the shot-star in blue midnight, 

Like the rainbow, ray by ray, 
Thou wert waning as we watch' d thee, 

Loveliest in thy last decay! 
As a zephyr, so serenely 

Came and went thy last low breath, 
That we paused, and ask'd our spirits — 

Is it so ? Can this be death? 

As the beams of Spring's first morning 

Through the silent chamber play'd, 
Lifeless, in my arms I raised thee, 

And in thy small coffin laid ; 
Ere the day-star with the darkness 

Nine times had triumphant striven, 
In one grave had met your ashes, 

And your souls in heaven ! 

Five were ye, the beauteous blossoms 
Of our hopes, our hearts, our hearth ; 

Two asleep lie buried under — 
Three for us yet gladden earth. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Thee, our hyacinth, gay Charlie — 
Willie, thee our snow-drop pure — 

Back to us shall second spring-time 
Never more allure ! 

Yet while thinking, oh ! our lost ones, 

Of how dear ye were to us, 
Why should dreams of doubt and darknes 

Haunt our troubled spirits thus ? 
Why across the cold dim churchyard 

Flit our visions of despair? 
Seated on the tomb, Faith's angel 

Says, "Ye are not there !" 

Where, then, are ye ? With the Saviour 

Blest, for ever blest, are ye, 
'Mid the sinless, little children, 

Who have heard His "Come to me !'* 
'Yond the shades of death's dark valley 

Xow ye lean upon His breast, 
"Where the wicked dare not enter, 

And the weary rest. 

We are wicked — we are weary — - 

For us pray and for us plead; 
God, who ever hears the sinless, 

May through you the sinful heed : 
Pray that, through the Mediator, 

All our faults may be forgiven; 
Plead that ye be sent to greet us 

At the gates of Heaven ! * 



* Edinburgh; William Blackwood & Sons. 



casa's dirge. 



365 



CASA'S DIRGE. 
D. M. Mom. 



The following are the closing stanzas from "Casa's Dirge/ 5 
written in April, 1838, a few weeks after " Delta" penned 
that exquisite poem, "Casa Wappy :" 



O heavenly child of mortal birth ! 

Our thoughts of thee arise, 
Not as a denizen of earth, 

But inmate of the skies : 
To feel that life renew'd is thine, 

A soothing balm imparts; 
We quaff from out Faith's cup divine, 

And Sabbath fills our hearts. 



Thou leanest where the fadeless wands 

Of amaranth bend o'er; 
Thy white wings brush the golden sands 

Of Heaven's refulgent shore. 
Thy home is where the psalm and song 

Of angels choir abroad; 
And blessed spirits, all day long, 

Bask round the throne of God. 

There chance and change are not ; the soul 

Quaffs bliss as from a sea, 
And years, through endless ages, roll, 

From sin and sorrow free : 
There gush for aye fresh founts of joy, 

New raptures to impart; 
Oh ! dare we call thee still our boy, 

•Who now a seraph art ? 



WORDS OF COMFORT, 



A little while — a little while- 
All ! long it cannot be ! 

And thou again on us wilt smile, 
Where angels smile on thee. 

How selfish is the worldly heart — 
How sinful to deplore ! 

Oh ! that we were where now thou art 
Not lost, but gone before. 



ELEGIAC STANZAS. 
D. M. Mom. 

Brightly the sun illumes the skies, 

But Nature's charms no bliss impart; 
A cloud seems spread before the eyes, 

Whose wintry shadow chills the heart: 
Oh ! eyes that, for my children's sake, 

Have poured forth tears like summer rain ! 
Oh ! breaking heart, that will not break, 

Yet never can be whole again ! 

Two years agone, and where shone hearth 

So fraught with buoyant mirth as ours ? 
Five fairies knit our thoughts to earth 

With bands like steel, tho' wreath' d of flower 
How wildly warm, how softly sweet, 

The spells that bade our hearts rejoice; 
While echo'd round us pattering feet, 

And voices — that seem'd Joy's own voice 1 

rhen light and life illumed each eye, 
And rapture beam'd from each young brow, 

And eager forms were flitting by, 

That would not — could not rest ; but now — 



ELEGIAC STANZAS, 

The light is quench'd, the life is fled ; 

Where are the feet that bounded free ? 
Thrice have we wept the early dead, 

And one small grave-turf covers three ! 

The spell is broken ! never more 

Can mortal life again seem gay; 
No future ever can restore 

The perish' d and the past away ! 
Though many a blessing gilds our lot, 

Though bright eyes still our hearth illume, 
Yet, 0 dear lost ones ! ye are not, 

And half the heart is in your tomb ! 

Sudden it fell, the fatal shaft, 

That struck blithe Charlie down in death; 
And, while Grief's bitterest cup we quaff'd, 

We turned to watch wee Willie's breath, 
That faintly ebb'd, and ebb'd away, 

Till all was still ; and, ere the sun 
A tenth time shed his parting ray, 

Their bed of dreamless rest was one ! 

And next, dear David, thou art gone ! 

Beloved boy, and can it be, 
That now to us remains alone 

Our unavailing grief for thee ? 
Yet, when we trace thine upward traok 

To where immortal spirits reign, 
We do not, dare not, wish thee back — 

Back to this world of care again ! 

Summer was on the hills; the trees 
Were bending down with golden fruit; 

The bushes seem'd alive with bees, 
And birds whose songs were never mute; 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



But 'twas even then, dear boy, when flowers, 
O'ermantling earth, made all things gay, 

That winter of the heart was ours, 
And thine the hues of pale decay ! 

Yes ! David, but two moons agone, 

And who so full of life as thou ? 
An infant Samson, vigour shone 

In thy knit frame and fearless brow. 
Oh ! how our inmost souls it stirr'd, 

To listen to thine alter'd tongue, 
And see thee moping like a bird, 

Whose strength was like the lion's young. 

Yet so it was; — and, day by day, 

Unquench'd thy thirst for sun and air, 
Down the smooth walks, with blossoms gay, 

We wheel'd thee in thy garden-chair; 
And as we mark'd thy languid eye, 

Wistful, the beds of bloom survey, 
We dared not think thou wert to die, 

Even in a briefer space than they. 

ISTow gleams the west, a silver sea 

Besprent with clouds of wavy gold; 
Earth looks like Eden; can it be 

That all thy days and nights are told ? 
Is there no voice, whose potent sway, 

Can pierce through Death's Cimmerian gloom 
Can bid the dead awake, and say — 

" Arise ! 'tis morning in the tomb V' 

Yes ! such there is, and thou that voice 
Hast heard — hast heard it, and obey'd; 

And we should mourn not, but rejoice 
That Heaven is now thy dwelling made — 



ELEGIAC STAXZAS. 



369 



That thou hast join'd thy brothers lost — 
That thou hast reach'd a happy shore, 

Where peace awaits the tempest-tost, 
And stormy billows rage no more. 

Three blessed beings ! ye are now 

Where pangs and partings are mi known, 
AVhere glory girds each sainted brow, 

And golden harps surround the throne : 
Oh ! to have hail'd that blissful sight, 

Unto the angels only given, 
When thy two brothers, robed in light, 

Embraced thee at the gates of Heaven ! 

David, farewell ! our mourning thus 

We know 'tis vain; it may not be 
That thou can'st come again to us, 

But we, dear child, will go to thee; 
Then let our thoughts ascend on high. 

To Him whose arm is strong to save; 
Hope gives to Faith the victory, 

And glory dawns beyond the grave !* 

* The Poetical Works of David Macbeth Moir. Edited by Thomas Aird. 
WiUiam Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London. [David Macbeth 
Moir was bom at Musselburgh, near Edinburgh, on the oth of Jan., 1798, 
and died, after a short illness, on the morning of Sabbath the 6th of July, 
1851, in his fifty-third year. From a characteristic memoir prefixed to 
his poems, by his gifted and warmly attached friend, Thomas Aird, we 
learn that shortly before he expired, Mr. Moir said to his sorrowing wife 
— " Catherine, my hours are numbered : I feel that I am not to be long 
with you. But do not let me distress you. or I will say no more. Look 
at me, my wife, and see I am perfectly resigned to the will of an All- 
wise Providence. Have faith: God will protect you and out- children/' 
"Peace." says George Gilfillan, '-to his fine and holy dust ! reposing now 
near that of the fine boy whose premature fate he has sung in his 4 Casa 
Wappy' — one of the truest and tenderest little poems in the language." 
■•We take farewell," says a writer in a tribute to " Delta's " memory in 
BlaclcicoocVs Magazine, "of the gentlest and kindest being, of the most 
true and single-hearted man. that we may ever hope to meet with in 
the course of this earthly pilgrimage."] 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



WE ARE SEVEN. 
Wit. "Wordsworth. 

A simple child, 

That lightly draws its breath, 

And feels its life in every limb, 
What should it know of death I 

I met a little cottage girl; 

She was eight years old, she said; 
Her hair was thick with many a curl 

That clustered round her head. 

She had a rustic, woodland air, 

And she was wildly clad : 
Her eyes were fair and very fan*; 

Her beauty made me glad. 

' 4 Sisters and brothers, little maid, 

How many may you be ?" 
•'How many ? — Seven in all," she said, 

And wondering looked at me. 

"And where are they? I pray you, tell.** 
She answered, " Seven are we; 
And two of us at Conway dwell, 
And two are gone to sea: 

' ' Two of us in the churchyard lie, 
My sister and my brother; 
And in the churchyard cottage, I 
Dwell near them with my mother. n 

" You say that two at Conway dwell, 
And two are gone to sea, 
Yet ye are seven ! — I pray you tell, 
Sweet maid, how this may be." 



WE ARE SEVEN. 



371 



Then did the little maid reply, 

* 1 Seven boys and girls are we ; 
Two of us in the churchyard lie, 

Beneath the churchyard tree." 

" You run about, my little maid. 
Your limbs they are alive ; 
If two are in the churchyard laid. 
Then ye are only five." 

" Their graves are green, they may be seen," 

The little maid replied, 
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, 

And they are side by side. 

"My stockings there I often knit, 
My kerchief there I hem ; 
And there upon the ground I si", 
And sing a song to them. 

"And often after sunset, Sir, 
When it is light and fair, 
I take my little porringer, 
And eat my supper there. 

"The first that died was sister Jane; 
In bed she moaning lay, 
Till God released her of her pain ; 
And then she went away. 

" So in the churchyard she was laid; 
And, when the grass was dry, 
Together round her grave we played. 
My brother John and I. 

"And when the ground was white with snow, 
And I could run and slide, 
My brother John was forced to go, 
And he lies by her side." 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 

' ' How many are you, then, " said I, 
"If they two are in heaven ?" 
Quick was the little maid's reply, 
" 0, master ! we are seven." 

"But they are dead; those two are dead? 

Their spirits are in heaven ! " 
'Twas throwing words away; for still 
The little maid would have her will, 

And said, " Nay, we are seven ! " * 



MATERNAL GRIEF. 

Wm. Wordsworth. 

Departed child ! I could forget thee once, 
Though at my bosom nursed ; this woful gain 
Thy dissolution brings, that in my soul 
Is present and perpetually abides 
A shadow, never, never to be displaced, 
By the returning substance, seen or touched, — 
Seen by mine eyes, or clasped in my embrace. 
Absence and death, how differ they ? and how 
Shall I admit that nothing can restore 
What one short sigh so easily removed ? 
Death, life, and sleep, reality and thought, — 
Assist me, God! their boundaries to know, 
Or teach me calm submission to Thy will. 

„ . . . And when the glare of day 

Is gone, and twilight to the mother's wish 

Befriends the observance, readily they join 

In walks whose boundary is the lost one's grave, 

Which he with flowers hath planted, finding there 

* London : Edward Moxon & Co. 



THE MAY QUE EX. 



373 



Amusement, where the mother does not miss 

Dear consolation, kneeling on the turf 

In prayer, yet blending with that solemn rite 

Of pious faith the vanities of grief : 

For such, by pitying angels and by spirits 

Transferred to regions upon which the clouds 

Of our weak nature rest not, must be deemed 

Those willing tears, and unforbidden sighs, 

And all those tokens of a cherished sorrow, 

Which, soothed and sweetened by the grace of heaven 

As now it is, seems to her own fond heart, 

Immortal as the love that gave it being. * 



THE MAY QUEEN. 
Alfred Tennyson. 

You'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the hawthorn 
shade, 

And you'll come sometimes and see me where I am lowly 
laid. 

I shall not forget you, mother, I shall hear you when yon 
pass, 

With your feet above my head in the long and pleasant grass, 



If I can I'll come again, mother, from out my resting-place ; 
Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your 
face; 

Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken what you say, 
And be often, often with you when you think I'm far away. 



* Words worth's Poetical Works. London : Edward Moxon & Co., Dover 
Street. [William Wordsworth was born at Gockermouth, Cumberland, 
on the 7th of April, 1770, and died at his residence, Rydal Mount, on 
Tuesday the 23rd of April, 1850, aged eighty years ; and on the 27th, was 
buried beside his two children in Grasmere Churchyard. 



371 



WORDS Of COMFORT. 



It seemed so hard at first, mother, to leave the blessed sun, 
And now it seems as hard to stay, and yet His will be done ! 
But still I think it can't be long before I find release ; 
And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of 
peace. 

O blessings on his kindly voice and on his silver hair ! 

And blessings on his whole life long, until he meet me there ! 

O blessings on his kindly heart and on his silver head ! 

A thousand times I bless' d him, as he knelt beside my bed. 

He taught me all the mercy, for he showed me all the sin. 
]STow, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will let 
me in : 

Xor would I now be well, mother, again, if that could be, 
For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for me. 

O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done 
The voice that now is speaking may be beyond the sun — 
Forever and forever with those just souls and true — 
And what is life that we should moan ? why make we such 
ado ? 

Forever and forever, all in a blessed home — 
And there to wait a little while till you and Erne come — 
To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast — 
And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at 
rest. * 



THE GE AX DM 0 THEE-. 
Alfred Texxysox. 
So Willy has gone, my beaut}', my eldest-born, my flower; 
But how can I weep for Willy, he has but gone for an hour, — 
Gone for a minute, my son, from this room into the next; 
1, too, shall go in a minute. What time have I to be vext? 

* Extracted by special permission from Messrs. E. Moxon & Co.. London. 



ENOCH AEDEN. 



ENOCH AEDEN, 

Alfred Tennyson. 

Now the third child was sickly born and grew 
Yet sicklier, tho' the mother cared for it 
With all a mother's care: nevertheless, 
Whether her business often call'd her from it, 
Or thro' the want of what it needed most, 
Or means to pay the voice who best could tell 
What most it needed — howsoe'er it was, 
After a lingering, — ere she was aware, — 
Like the caged bird escaping suddenly, 
The little innocent soul flitted away. 



Enoch Arden, father of this child, having gone to sea, after 
many years' absence, returns to his native place, and, when 
near his own end, speaks as follows to a friend, of his 
departed infant : — 

And now there is but one of all my blood, 
Who will embrace me in the world-to-be : 
This is his hair ; she cut it off and gave it, 
And I have borne it with me all these years, 
And thought to bear it with me to my grave; 
But now my mind is changed, for I shall see him, 
My babe, in bliss ; wherefore, when I am gone, 
Take, give her this, for it may comfort her : 
It will moreover be a token to her 
That lam he."* 

* Enoch Arden. By Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L., Poet Laureate. London; 
Edward Moxon & Co. 



376 



WOUDS OF COMPORT. 



HOME TRIAL. 

James Hei/Deb,wick, Editor of "The Glasgow Citizen." 

I never thought of him and death, so far apart they seeni'd— 
The love that would have died to save of danger scarcely 
dream' d; 

Too late the fear that prompted help — too late the yearning 
care; 

Yet who that saw his lustrous face could doubt that death 
would spare ? 

Oh, could my pangs have lightened his, or eased his failing 
breath, 

I would have drain'd the bitter cup had every drop been death : 
But though I drank his agony until my heart o'erflow'd, — 
From off the little sufferer's breast I could not lift the load. 

It weigh'd him down; I saw him sink away from life and me; 
Grief waded in the gentlest eyes; my own could scarcely see: 
He look'd so calm, he felt so cold — all hope, all life had fled — 
A cry of pain would have been sweet, but pain itself was dead. 

They took his form of innocence, and stretch'd it out alone; 
Tears fell upon the pulseless clay, like rain-drops upon stone; 
They closed his eyes of beauty, for their glory was o'ercast, 
And sorrow drew its deepest shade from gladness that was 
past. 

The sun was lazy in the heavens that day our darling died, 
And longer wore away the night we miss'd him from our side ; 
All sleep was scared by weary sobs from one wild heart and 
mine — 

The only sleep in all the house, my innocent ! was thine. 

I made mad inquest of the skies ; I breathed an inward psalm : 
The stars burn'd incense at God's feet — I grew more strong 
and calm: 



HOME TRIAL. 



377 



I utter'd brave and soothing words as was my manhood's part, 
Then hurried speechlessly away to hide the father's heart. 

His coffin-crib a soft hand deck'd with flowers of sweetest 
scent; 

To beauty and decay akin, their living breath they lent ; 
But never could they breath impart whence other breath had 
flown; — 

Ah me ! affection's helplessness, when death has claim' d his 
own ! 

Our child was now God's holy child, yet still he linger'd 
here; — 

Oh, could we but have kept him thus, the pictured dust how 
dear ! 

But soon the grave its summons writ upon the black'ning lips 
And wheresoe'er I look'd for light, I only saw eclipse. 

There was no loveliness in flowers, in human eyes, or books; 
Dear household faces flitted round with pain'd and ghastly 
looks; 

A shadow muffled like a mist the splendours of the day, 
And sorrow speaking to the night took all its stars away. 

No more might fair hands fondly smooth the pillow for his 
head ; 

The joyless task was now all mine to lay him in his bed: 
I laid him in his earth- cold bed, and buried with him there 
The hope that trembling on its knees expired 'mid broken 
prayer. 

As in the round and beauteous bud the promise we may trace 
Of the unfolded perfect flower, I used to read his face, 
Till love grown rash in prophecy foretold him brave and 
strong — 

A battler for the true and right, a trampler on the wrono-. 

B 2 



37 8 WORDS OF CDMFOKT. 

clad I my life to live again I know how I would live, 
And all the wisdom I have learn d to him I meant to give — 
To ble?s his glowing boyhood with the ripeness of my age, 
And train him up a better man, to tread a nobler stage: 

To train him up a perfect man the crown of life to win, 

With kingly chastity of thought to awe rebellious sin, 

With all the lights thrown forward of a bright unwasted 

youth — 

A soul as pure as cloister' d love, and strong as castled truth. 

His lot, how happy had it been, with age to guard and guide ! 
And yet he might have proved a sire — his darling might have 
died : 

If so, I need not canvass more the heavens why this should be — 
Ah ! better to be early dead, than live to weep like me ! 

Tears ! tears ! ye never can be his ! The thought my own 

should dry; 

Yet other thoughts and sadder thoughts still brood the foun- 
tains by: 

Why was a treasure to me given, for death so soon to take ! 
Oh, may the answer be — a heart grown purer for his sake ! 

Striving one day to be myself, of living things I thought, 
And musing on my blessings left, a calm was in me wrought, 
Till gliding to my infant's room, all noiselessly I stept, 
And shudder d as remembrance woke that there no more he 

slept. 

The world is emptied of my child, yet crowded with his lo;.:; 
The silence and the vacancy my steps for ever cross; 
With every sound of merriment my sorrow is at strife, 
And happy infants stare at me like pictures wanting life. 



HOME TRIAL. 



379 



My eye grows greedy of distress; — what healthless looks I 
meet ! 

What tear-writ tales of anguish in the harsh unheeding street ! 
Yet while the wasting griefs I trace in other hearts that dwell, 
The sympathy I fain would give my own heart soothetli well. 

Again, to dwarf my woe, I dream of war and shipwreck dire — 
Of choking pit — of crashing train — of fierce o'ermastering fire ; 
Alas ! the thousand frantic ills, which some are doom'd to 
prove; 

0 God ! how sweetly died my child 'midst ministries of love ! 

So gently wail, ye pleasant winds ! and weep ye silver show- 
ers ! 

Thou shadow of the cypress tree lie lightly on the flowers ! 
The summer has its mildews, and the daylight has its clouds, 
And some put on their marriage robes, while some are clad in 
shrouds. 

Thus o'er the gleaming track of life the generations run- 
Do they to clodded darkness pass, or to a brighter sun ? 
Does nothing spiritual ascend ? can soul become a sod ? 
Is man on earth an orphan ? is creation void of God ? 

Is the resplendent cope of night deserted, drear, and dead ? 
Does no great ear lean down to catch the prayers by good men 
said ? 

Is groan of murder'd patriot, or shout of martyr d saint, 
As idle as on savage shores the homeless ocean's plaint ? 

Above the lands that front the sky in the illumined east, 
The stars hang low and large like lamps at some immortal 
feast, 

And from those lands so near to heaven have wondrous voices 
come 

Of God's eternal fatherhood, and man's celestial heme. 



380 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



I marvel, then, dear child of mine ! whom 'neath the grass I 
laid, 

If wing'd and bright, a spirit now, though scarcely purer made, 
Thou liv'st in His almighty care in mansions of the skies ! 
Oh say, wilt thou come down to me, or I to thee arise 2 

Great mysteries are round thee, child ! unknown or dim to 
me, 

But yet I cannot dread the death made beautiful by thee; 
The path thy little feet have trod I may not fear to tread, 
And so I follow in the dark, as by an angel * 



OUB, FIRST TAKEN. 
Rev. Walter C. Smith, M.A., Glasgow. 

Sit close beside me, dearest wife; 

We are together, if alone; 
The dew upon the bloom of life 

Is gathered, and the bloom is gone; 
And part of us is in the grave, 

And part is in the heaven above; 
But stronger is the tie we have 

In mingled cords of grief and love. 

Sit very near, and let me dry 

This tear that trickles down thy cheek, 
And this that trembles in thine eye; 

For it is time that we should speak : 
The choking stupor of the hour 

Is past, when weeping was relief; 
Now yield thee to a gentler power — 

The tender memory of grief. 



* Lays of Middle Age. and other Poems. By James Hedderwick. Lon- 
don and Cambridge : Macmillan & Co. 



OUR FISST TAKEX. 



381 



Let's talk of her — our little one 

Who walks above the milky way, 
Arrayed in glory like the sun 

That lightens the eternal day; 
The little gift that we did make 

To God, by whom the boon was given — 
He wished it, deeming she would take 

Our hearts away with her to heaven. 

Remember that sweet time when hope 

Sat brooding o'er its future joy, 
And low, fond laughter wakened up 

With bets upon a girl or boy; 
And little caps in secret sewn, 

Were hid in many a quiet nook: 
You knew the secret to be known, 

Yet hid them with a guilty look. 

Remember all the gush of thought 

When first upon your arm she lay, 
And all the pain was ail forgot, 

And all the fears were smiled away; 
And looking on her helplessness 

Awakened strong resolve in you, 
And mother-love, and tender grace; 

And all was beautiful and new. 

For you were sure, a week before, 

That you should never live to see 
A baby laughing on the floor, 

Or placid lying on the knee, 
Or laid on my ungainly hand 

That always feared to let her slip, 
Or held up, with a fond command, 

For pressure of a father's lip. 



382 



WOBDS OF COMFORT. 



O sweet bud flowering dewy bright 

To crown our love's rejoicing stem! 
0 great eyes wondering in their light, 

With long dark lashes fringing them! 
And over these the forehead broad. 

And hen her full and parted, lips, 
And rounded chin, meet for a god, 

And pink shells on her finger-tips ! 

Most beautiful her life ! and we 

W ere even too full of happiness : 
As dewy flowers hang droopingly, 

Overburdened with the weight of bliss, 
And, fearful lest the treasure spill, 

Close up their petals to the light, 
So we forgot all, good or ill, 

To clasp to us that dear delight. 

Remember how we noted all 

Her little looks and winning ways, 
And how she let her eyelids fall 

As I was wont in wooing days; 
And held her little finger up 

In curious mimicry of mine; 
But when the smile was on her lip, 

Lo ! all the beaming face was Thine. 

0 say not she was only seen, 

Like song-bird lighting on the tree, 
A moment, while the leaves were green, 

Filling the boughs with melody, 
And then, when hope arose sereLe, 

She left us sadder than before; 
And better she had never been, 

Than leave us stricken to deplore. 



THE CHILD'S ANGEL. 



383 



And was it nothing then to feel 

A mother's love, and do her part, 
While soft hands o'er the bosom steal, 

And soft cheeks press against the heart ? 
Kay, let ns kneel together, love, 

And bow the head, and kiss the rod; 
We gave an heir to heaven above, 

A child to praise the Christ of God. 

He would have infant trebles ringing 

The glories of the great I AM; 
He woidd have childish voices singing 

The hallelujahs of the Lamb; 
And shall we faint in grief's desire 

Because this grace to us is given, 
To have a babe amid the choir 

White-robed around the throne of heaven ? 

We had a joy unto us given 

Transcending any earthly pleasance; 
We had a messenger from heaven; 

Let us be better for her presence. 
Our mother earth where she is laid 

Is dearer to my heart for her : 
We have such kindred with the dead, 

The very grave is lightsomer. — Orwell.* 



THE CHILD'S ANU-EL. 
Key. W. B. Robertson, Irvine. 
Elder sister, elder brother, 
Come and go around the mother, 
As she bids them come and go ; 
But the babe in her embrace 
Bests and gazes on her face, 
And is most happy so. 
* Good Words, May, 1S63 ; London, A. Strahan & Co. 



384 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Dropping from her lips and eyes, 
Soft and hidden harmonies 

Steal into her infant's heart: 
Mirror'd in clear depths below, 
Gleams of mystic beauty flow, 

And fix, and ne'er depart. 

Christ, our Lord, in His evangel, 
Tells us how the young child's angel, 

In the world of heavenly rest, 
Gazes in enraptured trance 
On His Father's countenance, 

And is supremely blest. 

Other angels come and go, 
As the Lord will, to and fro : 

Some to earth, on missions fleet, 
Some stand singing, some are winging 
Their swift flight, and homeward bringing 

The saved to Jesus' feet. 

Angel hosts all mingling, changing, 
Circle above circle ranging, 

Marshalling, throng God's holy place: 
But the children's angels, dearest 
To the Father's heart, come nearest, — 

They always see His face. 

And oh ! if earthly beauty, beaming 
From frail mother's face, rush, streaming 

Deep into her infant's heart, — 
What rare beauty must theirs be, 
Heavenly God, who gaze on Thee, 

Who see Thee as Thou art ! 



THE DEPARTED NIGH. 



THE DEPARTED NIGH. 

Rev. W. B. Robertson, Irvine. 
Departed, say we ? is it 

Departed, or Come Nigh. ? 
Dear friends in Christ more visit 

Than leave ns when they die. 
What thin vail still may hide them 

Some little sickness rends, 
And, lo ! we stand beside them; 

Are they departed friends ? 

Y ir dews on Zion mountain 

vjur Hermon hills bedew; 
Their river from the Fountain 

Elows down to meet us, too. 
The oil on the head, and under, 

Down to the skirts hath run; 
And though we seem asunder, 

We still in Christ are one. 

The many tides of ocean 

Are one vast tidal wave, 
That sweeps, in landward motion, 

Alike to coast and cave; 
And Life, from Christ outflowing, 

Is one wave evermore, 
To earth's dark caverns going, 

Or heaven's bright pearly shore. 

Hail, perfected immortals! 

Even now we bid you hail! 
We at the blood-stained portals, 

And ye within the vail! 
The thin cloud-vail between us 

Is mere dissolving breath, 
One heavens surround, and screen us 

And where art thou, — O Death? 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



SONG OF THE CHURCHYARD CHILDREN. 

Thomas Aied, Dumfries. 

Lo ! through the churchyard conies a company street 
Of ghosted infants — who has loosed their feet 2 
linked hand in hand, this way they glide along; 
But list their softly-modulated song: — 

Our good Lord Christ on high 
Has let us forth a space, 
To see the moonlit place 
Where our little bodies lie. 
Back He will call us, at His dear command 
We'll run again unto the happy land. 

O'er each unblemished head 
No thunder-cloud unsheaths its terrors red; 
Mild touching gleams those beauteous field.? invest, 
Won from the kingdoms of perpetual rest. 

Stony Enchantment there, 
Nor Divination frights; 
Nor hoary witch with her blue lights, 
And caldron's swarming glare; 
There are no muttered spells, 
Envy, nor Clamour loud; 
Nor Hatred, on whose head for ever dwells 
A sullen cloud. 
There is no fiend's dissembling, 
Nor the deep -furrowed garment of trembling, 
But the robes of lucid air. 
0 all is good and fair ! 

Unto the Lamb we'll sing, 
Who gives us each glad thing: 



BERKELEY AND FLORENCE COLERIDGE. 



38? 



For Mercy sits with. Him upon His throne; 

For there His gentle keeping is revealed, 
O'er each young head select a glory and a shield. 
Wide be His praises known! 

And in the end of days, 

Our little heads He'll raise 

Unto Himself, unto His bosom dear, 
Far from the outcast fear 
Ox them, oh wo! who make their beds in fire. 
Sons shall we be of the celestial prime, 
Breathing the air of Heaven's delicious clime, 

Walking in white attire. 

With God Himself sublime. 



THE LITTLE DWELLING. 

This very eve I heard my wife, where she 

In saintly calm dwells with our children three; 

Their low sweet voices of my name were telling; 

0 how I yearned around their little dwelling! 

1 could not enter in, I could not make 

My presence known, one kiss I could not take! 
Yet I rejoice, the Heavenly Watch are keeping 
Their nightly vigil o'er the dear ones sleeping. * 



BERKELEY AND FLORENCE COLERIDGE. 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 

0 frail as sweet ! twin buds, too rath to bear 
The winter's unkind air; 
0 gifts beyond all price! no sooner given 
Than straight required by Heaven; 

* Poetical Works of Thomas AircL Edinburgh and London : William 
Blackwood & Sons. 



388 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Match'd jewels, vainly for a moment lent 

To deck my brow, or sent 

Untainted from the earth, as Christ's, to soar, 

And add two spirits more 

To that dread band seraphic, that doth lie 

Beneath the Almighty's eye; — 

Glorious the thought— yet, ah! my babes, ah! still 

A father's heart ye fill; 

Though cold ye lie in earth— though gentle death 

Hath sucked your balmy breath, 

And the last kiss which your fair cheeks I gave 

Is buried in yon grave. 

No tears, no tears— I wish them not again. 

To die for them was gain, 

Ere doubt, or Fear, or Woe, or act of Sin 

Had marr'd God's light within.* 



OUR ONLY CHILD. 
Professor John Wilson. 
Ere Margaret was three months old, 
Her Father laid her in the mould! 
Poor babe! her fleeting visit here 
Was mark'd by many a sigh and tear, 
And sudden starts of unknown pain 
Oft seem'd to shake her little brain! 
Scarcely unto her ear was known 
A yearning Mother's gentle tone; 
She could not by her smiles repay 
The sleepless night, the anxious day; 
And yet, at times, her eyes would rest 
With gladness on that Mother's breast, 
And sinking, with a murmur there, 
Like a hush'd stir of vernal air, 
* Poems by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. London : Edward Moxon & Co. 



OUR OXLT CHILD. 



We saw lier little bosom, move 

Blest by tlie genial fount of Love! 

Gently the stroke of death did come, 

And sent her to a heavenly home: 

Ev'n like the wild harp's transient strain, 

She slept — and never woke again! 

And now, beneath her spotless shroud, 

Like a pale star behind a cloud, 

Or a young Flower that dies in May, 

Chill" d by hoar-frost — the Baby lay. 

Ah, me! it was a sad delight, 

"V\ hile grief the glimmering air possest, 
To mark her little bed of rest! 
The sweet Child bore no looks of death, 
She seem'd alive, though 'reft oi breath; 
Her lips retained their sunny glow, 
But her cold cheek was pale as snow! 
While thus she lay, no painful trace 

But something like a sm il e did play 
Over the dead insensate clay, 
As if a happy dream had shed 
A halo round that guiltless head. 

At morning light we took our way, 

To drop the dear Babe in the clay. 

Xo mourners might that corse attend, 

Save Father — Servant — Neighbour — Friend 

For none but real weepers gave 

A blessing to mine Infant's grave. 

The vernal noon was soft and mild, 

Meet foi the funeral of a child: 

Round the small grave the sunbeams stole, 

Pure as the Infant's sainted soul! 



390 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And tli' opening heavens appear'd to shed 

A loving lustre o'er the dead. 

The fair unfolding buds of Spring 

Sustain'd our quiet sorrowing; 

For wide o'er the rejoicing Earth 

Wild flowers were springing in their mirth, 

Of many a bright and heavenly dye, 

Emblems of sinless Infancy. 

Oh! fairer, sweeter far than they, 

My Flower now dropt into the clay! 

Shut by the sod roof, smooth and even, 

Her blossoms from the dews of heaven! 

When evening came, the silent hearth, 

Two nights before alive with mirth, 

With dim and languid lustre shone, 

As if it knew our Babe was gone. 

At once our spirits felt beguil'd 

Of grief— we spake not of our child— 

Yet every word we softly said, 

Tolcl that our thoughts were with the dead. 

I look'd into the Mother's face, 

And a calm smile had taken place 

Of tears, by Jesus' self approved! 

Our only Child, so much beloved, 

Had left us for a cradle blest 

Beyond a mortal mother's breast.— 

We knew— we felt that God was kind— 

What awful bliss to be resigned! 



No fears have we when some delightful child 

Falls from its innocence into the grave; 

Soon as we know its little breath is gone, 

We see it lying on the Saviour's breast 

A heavenly flower, there fed with heavenly dew.* 

* Poems by John Wilson. London and Edinburgh : Wm. Blackwood & 
Sons. [John Wilson was born at Paisley, in 1785, and died at Edinburgh 
on the 4th of April. 1854.] 



THE FAIREST FLOWER. 



THE FAIREST FLOWER. 
John Milton. 
O fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted, 
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; 
For he being amorous on that lovely die 

That did thy cheek envermeiL thought to kiss, 
But kill'd, alas, and then bewailed his fatal bliss.' 

Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, 

Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 

Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed, 

Hid from the world in a low delved tomb; 

Could Heaven, for pity, thee so strictly doom? 

Oh no ! for something in thy face did shine 
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. 

Resolve me, then, 0 Soul most surely bless'd 
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear), 
Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest, 
Whether above that high first-moving sphere, 
Or in the Elysian fields (if such there were); ' 

Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight, 
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight 

Wert thou some star which from the ruin'cl roof 
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall ; 
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof' 
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall? 
Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall 

Of sheeny Heaven, and thou, some goddess, fled 
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head? 

Or wert thou that just maid, who once before 
Forsook the hated earth, 0 tell me sooth, 



392 



"WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And cam'st again to visit us once more ? 

Or wert thou Mercy, that sweet smiling Youth ? 

Or that crown'd matron sage, white-robed Truth ? 

Or any other of that heavenly brood 
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good? . 

Or wert thou of the golden- winged host 

Who, having clad thyself in human weed, 

To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 

And after short abode fly back with speed, 

As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed; 

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven aspire ? 

But oh! why didst thou not stay here below 
To bless us with thy heaven-lov'd innocence, 
To slake His wrath whom sin had made our foe, 
To turn swift -rushing black perdition hence ? 
Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence, 

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart ? 
But thou canst best perform that office where thou art, 

Then thou the mother of so sweet a child 
Her false imagined loss cease to lament, 
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild; 
Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
And render Him with patience what He lent; 

This if thou do, He will an offspring give, 
That till the world's last end shall make thy name to live. 

* John Milton was born in London, on the 9th of December, 160S, an 
died there on Sunday, the 8th of November, 1675, aged 67 years. 



STILL THOU ART MINE OWN. 



393 



" STILL THOU ART MINE OWN." 
Paul Gerhardt.* (Written in 1650.) 

Thott'ht mine, yes, still thou art mine own ! 

Who tells me thou art lost ? 
But yet thou art not mine alone, 

I own that He who cross'd 
My hopes, has greatest right in thee; 
Yea, though He ask and take from me 
Thee, 0 my son, my heart's delight, 
My wish, my thought, by day and night. 

Ah might I wish, ah might I choose, 
Then -thou, my Star, shouldst live, 

And gladly for thy sake I'd lose 
All else that life can give. 

Oh fain I'd say — Abide with me, 

The sunshine of my house to be. 

No other joy but this I crave, 

To love thee, darling, to my grave ! 

Thus saith my heart, and means it well, 

God meaneth better still ; 
My love is more than words can tell, 

His love is greater still ; 
I am a father, He the Head 
And Crown of fathers, whence is shed 
The life and love from which have sprung 
All blessed ties in old and young. 

I long for thee, my son, my own, 

And He who once hath given, 
Will have thee now beside His throne, 

To live with Him in heaven. 

* Gerhardt was an eminent commentator of the Lutheran Church i 
Germany. 

2 c 



394 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



I cry, Alas ! my light, my child! 
But God hath, welcome on him smiled, 
And said, " My child, I keep thee near, 
For there is nought but gladness here. " 

Oh blessed word, oh deep decree, 

More holy than we think! 
With God no grief or woe can be, 

No bitter cup to drink, 
No sickening hopes, no want or care, 
No hurt can ever reach him there; 
Yes, in that Father's sheltered home 
I know that sorrow cannot come. 

We pass our nights in wakeful thought 

For our dear children's sake; 
All day our anxious toil hath sought 

How best for them to make 
A future safe from care or need, 
Yet seldom do our schemes succeed; 
How rarely does their future prove 
What we had plann'd for those we love! 

How many a child of promise bright 

Ere now hath gone astray, 
By ill example taught to slight 

And quit Christ's holy way. 
Oh fearful the reward is then, 
The wrath of God, the scorn of men! 
The bitterest tears by mortal sued 
Are his who mourns a child misled. 

But now I need not fear for thee, 

Where thou art, all is well; 
For thou thy Father's Face dost see, 

With Jesus thou dost dwell ! 



"STILL THOU ART MINE OWK." 395 

Yes, cloudless joys around him shine, 
His heart shall never ache like mine, 
He sees the radiant armies glow, 
That keep and guide us here below: 

He hears their singing evermore, 

His little voice too sings, 
He drinks of wisdom's deepest lore, 

He speaks of secret things, 
That we can never see or know 
Howe'er we seek or strive below, 
While yet amid the mists we stand 
That veil this dark and tearful land. 

Oh that I could but watch afar, 

And hearken but awhile, 
To that sweet song that hath no jar, 

And see his heavenly smile, 
As he doth praise the holy God 
Who made him pure for that abode! 
In tears of joy full well I know 
This burden'd heart would overflow. 

And I should say— Stay there, my son, 

My wild laments are o'er, 
O well for thee that thou hast won, 

I call thee back no more; 
But come, thou fiery chariot, come, 
And bear me swiftly to that home, 
Where he with many a loved one dwelL, 
And evermore of gladness tells ! 

Then be it as my Father wills, 

I will not weep for thee; 
Thou livest, joy thy spirit fills, 

Pure sunshine thou dost see, 



39S 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



The sunshine of eternal rest : 

Abide, rny child, where thou art, blest ; 

I with our friends will onward fare, 

And, when God wills, shall find thee there.* 



DANTE'S VISION. 

Now contemplate the Providence divine; 

Whence Faith, as viewed on its two several sides. 

Shall equally in this fair garden shine. 
And know that downward from the lofty throne, 

Which in the middle the two parts divides, 

No one is there through merit of his own, 
But through Another's; and upon conditions; 

For all these souls freed from the body were, 

Ere upon choice were founded their volitions. 
This may you be convinced of (if due pains 

You take to mark them, and their accents hear) 

Both by their looks, and by their childish strains. 
Yet now you doubt, and still your doubts withhold; 

But though your bonds are intricate, yet I 

Will strive your subtle reasonings to unfold. 
Within this peaceful kingdom's wide domain 

No room is to be found for casualty, 

No dwelling there for hunger, thirst, or pain : 
For in this realm is stablished every thing 

Under the sanction of eternal laws, 

As to the finger answereth a ring- 
Therefore the children that herein do press 

To life eternal, not without a cause 

Inherit excellence or more or less, t 

* Lyra Grermanica. Translated from the German by Catherine Wink- 
worth. London : Longman. Green, & Co. 

t Dante. By I. C. Wright, M.A. London: H. G. Bohn. [Dante, the 
great Italian poet, was born at Florence in 12G5. and died in 1321.] 



THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. 



THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. 

Henry Wabsworth Longfellow. 
There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, 

And, with his sickle keen, 
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, 

And the flowers that grow between. 

■'Shall T have nought that is fair? 1 ' saith he- 
4 { Have nought but the bearded grain? 
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to 
I will give them all back again. " 

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eye?, 
He kissed their drooping leaves; 

It was for the Lord of Paradise 
He bound them in his sheaves. 

'My Lord has need of these flowerets gay," 

The Reaper said, and smiled; 
' Dear tokens of the earth are they, 

Where He was once a child. 

' They shall all bloom in fields of light, 

Transplanted by my care ; 
And saints, upon their garments white, 

These sacred blossoms wear. " 

And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 

The Flowers she most did love; 
She knew she should find them all again 

In the fields of light above. 

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, 

The Reaper came that day ; 
'Twas an Angel visited the green earth, 

And took the flowers away. 



398 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



"RESIGNATION." 

H. W. LOXGFELLOW. 

There is no flock, however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there! 
There is no fireside, howsoever defended, 

But has one vacant chair! 

The air is full of farewells to the dying, 

And mournings for the dead; 
The heart of Bachel, for her children crying, 

Will not be comforted! 

Let us be patient ! these severe afflictions 

Xot from the ground arise, 
But oftentimes celestial benedictions 

Assume this dark disguise. 

We see but dimly through the mists and vapours 

Amid these earthly damps, 
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers, 

May be Heaven's distant lamps. 

There is no Death ! what seems so is transition: 

This life of mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 

Whose portal we call death. 

She is not dead — the child of our affection— 

But gone unto that school 
Where she no longer needs our poor protection^ 

And Christ Himself doth rule. 

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, 

By guardian angels led, 
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution,. 

She lives whom we call dead. 



u RESIGNATION." 



399 



Day after day we think what she is doing, 

In those bright realms of air, 
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, 

Behold her grown more fair. 

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken 

The bond which nature gives, 
Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, 

May reach her where she lives. 

Not as a child shall we again behold her; 

For when with raptures wild 
In our embraces we again enfold her, 

She will not be a child; 

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, 

Clothed with celestial grace; 
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion 

Shall we behold her face. 

And though at times, impetuous with emotion 

And anguish long suppressed, 
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, 

That cannot be at rest — 

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 

We cannot wholly stay; 
By silence sanctifying, not concealing, 

The grief that must have way. 



THE DEATH OF THE FIRST-BORN. 

Alaric A. Watts. 

The late Sir Robert Peel sent the following note to the accom- 
plished author — "It is not from mere courtesy that I assure 
you that your name is respected by me. I have had the 



400 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

satisfaction of reading many of yonr poems. I particularly 
call to mind two— < The Death of the First-Born, ' and 4 My 
Own Fire-Side; ' to have written which, would be an honour- 
able distinction to any one." 

My sweet one! my sweet one! the tears were in my eyes 
When first I clasped thee to my heart, and heard thy feeble 
cries; — 

For I thought of all that I had borne, as I bent me down to 
kiss 

Thy cherry lips, and sunny brow, my first-born bud of bliss! 

I turned to many a withered hope, to years of grief and pain, 
And the cruel wrongs of a bitter world flashed o'er my boding 
brain; — 

I thought of friends, grown worse than cold, of persecuting 
foes, 

And I asked of Heaven if ills like these must mar thy youth's 
repose! 

I gazed upon thy quiet face, half blinded by my tears,— 
Till gleams of bliss, unfelt before, came brightening on my 
fears; — 

Sweet rays of hope that fairer shone 'mid the clouds of gloom 

that bound them, 
As stars dart down their loveliest light when midnight skies 

are round them. 

My sweet one, my sweet one, thy ILVs brief hour is o'er, 
And a father's anxious fear for thee can fever me no more! 
And for the hopes, the sun-bright hopes, that blossomed at 
thy birth, — 

They too have fled, to prove how frail are cherished things of 
earth! 

'Tis true that thou wert young, my child, but though brief 

thy span below, 
To me it was a little age of agony and woe; 



THE DEATH OF THE FIRST-BORN; 



401 



For, from thy first faint dawn of life thy cheek began to fade, 
And my lips had scarce thy welcome breathed, ere my hopes 
were wrapt in shade. 

Oh! the child in its hours of health and bloom that is dear as 
thou wert then, 

Grows far more prized, more fondly loved, in sickness and in 
pain; 

And thus 'twas thine to prove, dear babe, when every hope 
was lost — 

Ten times more precious to my soul, for all that thou hadst 
cost. 

Cradled in thy fair mother's arms, we watched thee, day by 
day, 

Pale like the second bow of heaven, as gently waste away; 
And, sick with dark foreboding fears we dared not breathe 
aloud, 

Sat, hand in hand, in speechless grief, to wait death's comin* 
cloud! 

It came at length;— o'er thy bright blue eye the film was 

gathering fast, — 
And an awful shade passed o'er thy brow, the deepest and the 

last; — 

In thicker gushes strove thy breath,— we raised thy drooping 
head; 

A moment more— the final pang— and thou wert of the Dead! 

Thy gentle mother turned away to hide her face from me, 
And murmured low of Heaven's behests, and bliss attained by 
thee; — 

She would have chid me that I mourned a doom so blest as 
thine, 

Had her own deep grief burst forth in tears as wild as mine! 



402 



WORDS OF C03IFOET. 



We laid thee down in thy sinless rest, and from thine infant 
brow 

Culled one soft lock of radiant hair, our only solace now; 
Then placed around thy beauteous corse, flowers, not more 

fair and sweet, — 
Twin rose-buds in thy little bands, and jasmine at thy feet. 

Thougli other offspring still be ours, as fair perchance as thou, 

With all the beauty of thy cheek, the sunshine of thy brow, 

They never can replace the bud our early fondness nurst; 
They may be lovely and beloved, but not, like thee, the First! 

The First!— How many a memory bright that one sweet 

word can bring, 
Of hopes that blossomed, drooped, and died, in life's delightful 

spring; — 

Of fervid feelings passed away— those early seeds of bliss 
That germinate in hearts unseared by such a world as this! 

My sweet one! my sweet one! my fairest and my First! 
When I think of what thou might'st have been, my heart is 
like to burst; 

But gleams of gladness through my gloom their soothing 
radiance dart, 

And my sighs are hushed, my tears are dried, when I turn to 
what thou art! 

Pure as the snow-flake ere it falls and takes the stain of earth, 
With not a taint of mortal life except thy mortal birth, 
God bade thee early taste the spring for which so many thirst. 
And bliss, eternal bliss, is thine, my fairest and my First ! 



THE IXFAXT CHOIR IN HEAVEN. 



THE CHOIR OF THE IXFAXT NOW IN HEAVEN. 

Ja:mes Montgomery. 

Happy, thrice happy were they thus to die, 

Rather than grow into such men and women — 

Such fiends incarnate as that felon sire 

Who dug its grave before his child was born; 

Such miserable wretches as that mother 

Whose tender mercies were so deadly cruel ! 

I saw their infant's spirit rise to heaven, 

Caught from its birth up to the throne of God; 

There, thousands and ten thousands I beheld 

Of innocents like this, that died untimely, 

By violence of their unnatural kin, 

Or by the mercy of that gracious Power, 

Who gave them being, taking what He gave 

Ere they could sin or s infer like their parents. 

I saw them in. white raiment, crowned with flowers, 

On the fair banks of that resplendent river 

Whose streams make glad the city of our God — 

Water of life, as clear as crystal, welling 

Forth from the throne itself, and visiting 

Fields of a Paradise that ne'er was lost; 

Where yet the tree of life immortal grows, 

And bears its monthly fruits, twelve kinds of fruit, 

Each in its season, food of saints and angels; 

Whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. 

Beneath the shadow of its blessed boughs 

I mark'd those rescued infants, in their schools, 

By spirits of just men made perfect, taught 

The glorious lessons of Almighty Love, 

Which brought them thither in the readiest path 

From the world's wilderness of dire temptations, 

Securing thus their everlasting weal. 



404: 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Yea, in the rapture of that hour, though songs 
Of cherubim to golden lyres and trumpets, 
And the redeemed upon the sea of glass, 
With voices like the sound of many waters, 
Came on mine ear, whose secret cells were open'd 
To entertain celestial harmonies — 
The small, sweet accents of those little children, 
Pouring out all the gladness of their souls 
In love, joy, gratitude, and praise to Him— 
Him who had ldv'd and wash'd them in his blood; 
These were to me the most transporting strains, 
Amidst the hallelujahs of all Heaven. 
Though lost awhile in that amazing chorus 
Around the throne, at happy intervals 
The shrill hosannas of the infant choir, 
Singing in that eternal temple, brought 
Tears to mine eye, whilst seraphs had been glad 
To weep, could they have felt the sympathy 
That melted all my soul, when I beheld 
How condescending Deity thus deign'd, 
Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings here, 
To perfect His high praise;— the harp of heaven 
Had lack'd its least but not its meanest string, 
Had children not been taught to play upon it 
And sing, from feelings all their own, what men 
Nor angels can conceive of creatures, born 
Under the curse, yet from the curse redeem' d, 
And placed at once beyond the power to fall- 
Safety which men nor angels ever knew, 
Till ranks of these, and all of those had fallen, * 

* Pelican Island. London: Edward Moxon & Go. [James Montgomery 
was born at Irvine. Ayrshire, on the 4th Xovember. 1771. and died at 
Sheffield, on the 30th of April 1854. aged S3 yearn] 



THE SICK CHILD'S DREAM. 



405 



THE SICK CHILD'S DREAM. 
Robert Xicoll. 

0 ! mither, nritlier, my head was sair, 
And my een wi' tears were weet; 

But the pain has gane for evermair, 

Sae, mither, dinna greet: 
And I ha'e had sic a bonnie dream, 

Since last asleep I fell, 
0' a' that is holy an' gu.de to name, 

That I've wauken'd my dream to tell, 

1 thought on the morn o' a simmer day 
That ava' through the clouds I flew, 

While my silken hair did wavin' play, 

'Mang breezes steep'd in dew; 
And the happy things o' life and light 

Were around my gowden way, 
As they stood in their parent Heaven's sight 

In the hames o' nightless day. 

An' sangs o' love that nae tongue may tell 

Erae their hearts cam' flowin' free, 
Till the stars stood still, while alang did swell 

The plaintive melodie. 
And ane o' them sang wi' my mither' s voice, 

Till through my heart did gae 
That chanted hynm o' my bairnhood's choice, 

Sae dowie, saft, an' wae. 

Thae happy things o' the glorious sky 

Did lead me far away, 
Where the stream o' life rins never dry, 

Where naething kens decay; 
And they laid me down in a mossy bed, 

Wi' curtains o' spring leaves green, 
And the Name o' God they praying said, 

And a light came o'er my een. 



406 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And I saw the earth that I had left, 

And I saw my mither there; 
And I saw her grieve that she was bereft 

0' the bairn she thought sae fair; 
And I saw her pine till her spirit fled— 

Like a bird to its young one's nest- 
To that land of love; and my head was laid 

Again on my mither's breast. 

And, mither, ye took me by the hand, 

As ye were wont to do, 
And your loof, sae saft and white, I feud 

Laid on my caller brow; 
And my lips you kiss'd, and my curling hair 

You round your fingers wreath'd; 
And I kent that a happy mither's prayer 

Was o'er me silent breath'd— 

And we wander'd through that happy land, 

That was gladly glorious a'; 
The dwellers there were an angel-band, 

And their voices o' love did fa' 
On our ravish'd ears like the deein' tones 

0' an anthem far away, 
In a starn-lit hour, when the woodland moans 

That its green is turn'd to gray. 

And, mither, amang the sorrowless there, 

We met my brithers three, 
And your bonnie May, my sister fair, 

And a happy bairn was she; 
And she led me awa' 'mang living flowers, 

As on earth she aft has done; 
And thegither we sat in the holy bowers 

Where the blessed rest aboon:— 



MARY ANN. 



And she tauld me I was in Paradise, 

Where God in love doth dwell — 
Where the weary rest, and the mourners voice 

Forgets its warld-wail; 
And she tauld me they kentna dull nor care; 

And bade me be glad to dee, 
That yon sinless land and the dwellers there 

Might be hame and kin to me. 

Then sweetly a voice came on my ears, 

And it sounded sae holily 5 
That my heart grew saft, and blabs o" tears 

Sprung up in my sleephf e'e; 
And my inmost soul was sairly moved 

Wi' its mair than mortal joy; — 
'Twas the voice o' Him who bairnies loved 

That waukend your dreamin* boy!'" 



MARY AXX. 

Robert Xicoll. 
In the casket of my soul I keep 

Thy form and face, my child- 
like a primrose- star of love on me 

Frae heaven thou lang hast smiled. 
I see thy mirthfu' glance— thy hair 

Spread o'er thy brow sae wan— 
And thy cherry li p; _ but I canna kiss 

My dove— my Mary Ann! 

Like a pleasant thought within the heart, 

Thou in my bosom slept; 
And o'er thee dreaming there, my watch 

Of gladness aft I kept ! 

* Robert NicolTs Poems. Glasgow: Blackie & So 



408 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Iii sunlit hours, thy artless words. 

As round my knee thou ran, 
Were sweet wild music to my soul — 

My loves ome Mary Ann! 

The jewel of my young life's crown — 

The flower of hope wast thou; 
But the gem affection prized is lost — 

The flower is wither'd now; 
Short was thy stay in thy mothers hame, 

And short thy earthly span: 
But monie a heart was in love with thee, 

My dearest Mary Ann! 

How thou wouldst clasp thy mother's neck, 

Thy mothers lips to kiss! 
To be by thee in thy love caress"d 

Was a dream of heaven-like bliss. 
And deeper joy than mine, my dove, 

Xoer bless'd since time began; 
As I clasp'd, and kiss'd, and gazed upon 

My Infant Mary Ann! 

My life! my love! my precious babe! 

How dear thou wast to me 
That mother only knows whom God 

Hath bless'd with such as thee! 
As the violet fades and the daisy dies 

When the blast of Yule has blawn; 
The cauldrife hands of death have stown 

My darling Mary Ann! * 

* Poems and Lyrics. By Robert NicolL Glasgow: Blackie & Son 
[Robert NicoU was bom at Lulliebeltane, Perthshire, 7th January. 1811 . 
became editor of the Leeds Times in 1S36, and died at Larerockbank, 
Edinburgh, 9th December, 1S37. in his twenty-fourth year.] 



THE CHILD IK HEAVEN". 



409 



THE CHILD IN HEAVE X. 
Mary Howitt, Londox. 
We meet around the board, thou art not there ■ 
Over our household joys hath passed a gloom; 
.Beside the fire we see thy empty chair, 
And miss thy sweet voice in the silent room. 
■ What hopeless longings after thee arise ! 
Even for the touch of thy small hand I pine • 
And for the sound of thy dear little feet. 
Alas ! tears dim mine eyes, 
Meeting in every place some joy of thine. 
Or when fair children pass me on the street. 

Beauty was on thy cheek; and thou didst seem 
A privileged being, chartered from decay 

And thy free spirit, like a mountain stream' 
That hath no ebb, kept on its cheerful way. 

TW rt y !i U :^ T " ke th6 breath of springs 

That thrills the heart, and cannot be unfelt, 

The sun, the moon, the green leaves and the flowers 
And every living thing, 
Were a strong joy to thee /"thy spirit dwelt 
Gladly m life, rejoicing in its powers. 

Oh ! what had death to do with one like thee, 

Thou young and loving one; whose soul did clin* 
Even as the ivy clings unto the tree 
To those that loved thee? Thou, whose tears would spring 
Dreading a short day's absence-didst thou go 
Alone into the future world unseen, 
Solving each awful untried mystery, 
The dread unknown to know ; 
To be where mortal traveller hath not been 
Whence welcome tidings cannot come from thee ' 



D 2 



voma or COHFOHr. 



uy ongilt ereg c 

B or they with whom thou art 2 i , 
For ye are of tfc. r 7 Ioss <%>lore; 

are ot the living, not the dead 

Are mysteries no more wh 0 t s'o r T **** aud hea ^ 
With knowledge for wSl ^ St ° red 
Beloved Child Oh"SnT,?fv ^ 

YetfaraMtae while we walk i^. 

OXLY .4 CURL. 

Elizabeth B. iEEZII Bkowxxvg 
BWds of f ace s unknot and a land 

United over the sea, 
Who teU me how lonely y OU stand 

Wrthasmglegoldcurlinthehand 
Held up to be looked at by me,- 
WMe you ask me to ponder and'say 

Wth the bright feUowlocks put away 
Wlere the Mispress nearer than you S 



OXLY A CURL. 



Shall I speak like a poet, or run 

Into weak woman's tears for relief ? 
Oh, children! — I never lost one, — 
Yet my arm's round my own little son, 
And Love knows the secret of Grief. 

And I feel that it must be and is, 

When God draws a new angel so 
Through the house of a man up to His, 
With a murmur of music, you miss, 
And a rapture of light, you forego. 

How you think, staring on at the door, 
Where the face of your angel flashed in. 

That its brightness, familiar before, 

Burns off from you ever the more 
For the dark of your sorrow and sin. 

41 God lent him and takes him," you sigh; 

— Xay, there let me break with your pain : 
God's generous in giving, say I. — 
And the thing which He gives, I deny 

That He ever can take back again. 

He gives what He gives. I appeal 

To all who bear babes— in the hour 
When the veil of the body we feel 
Rent round us, — while torments reveal 
The motherhood's advent in power — 

And the babe cries ! — has each of us known 

By apocalypse (God being there 
Full in nature) the child is our own, 
Life of life, love of love, moan of moan, 

Through all changes, all times, everywhere. 



4-1 9 

WORDS OF COMFORT. 

He's ours and for ever. Believe, 
0 father— 0 mother, look back 
To the first love's assurance. To give 
Means with God not to tempt or deceive 
With a cup thrust in Benjamin's sack. 

He gives what He gives. Be content' 
He resumes nothing given,-be sure! 
God lend? Where the usurers lent 
In His temple, indignant He went ' 
And scourged away all those impure. 

He lends not; but gives to the end, 
As He loves to the end. If it seem 

That He draws back a gift, comprehend 

Tis to add to it rather,— amend, 
And finish it up to your dream,— 

Or keep,- aS a mother will toys 

Too costly, though given by herself, 
liU the room shall be stiller from noise 
And the children more fit for such joys' 
Kept over their heads on the shelf. 

So look up, friends ! you, who indeed 

Have possessed in your house a sweet piece 
Of .he Heaven which men strive for, must need 
i3e more earnest than others are,— speed 
Where they loiter, persist where they cease. 

You know how one angel smiles there. 

Then weep not. 'Tis easy for you 
To be drawn by a single gold hair 
Of that curl, from earth's storm and despair, 

To the safe place above us. Adieu. 



A CHILD'S GRAVE AT FLORENCE. 



413 



A CHILD'S GRAVE AT FLORENCE. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

Teis July creature thought, perhaps, 

Our speech not worth assuming; 
She sat upon her parents' laps, 

And mimicked the gnats humming; 
Said, 4 'father," < 4 mother, "—then left off, ' 

For tongues celestial, fitter: 
Her hair had grown just long enough 

To catch Heaven's jasper-glitter. 
Babes ! Love could always hear and see 

Behind the cloud that hid them, 
"Let little children come to Me, 

And do not thou forbid them." 



Poor earth, poor heart, — too weak, too weak 

To miss the July shining ! 
Poor heart ! — what bitter words we speak 

When God speaks of resigning ! 
Sustain this heart in us that faints, 

Thou God the Self-Existent ! 
We catch up wild at parting saints, 

And feel Thy heaven too distant. 
The wind that swept them out of sin, 

Has ruffled all our vesture : 
On the shut door that let them in, 

We beat with frantic gesture. — 
To us, us also, open straight ! 

The outer life is chilly; 
Are we, too, like the earth to wait 

Till next year for our Lily? * 

* "Lily,"— the pet name of the child. 



414 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



— Oh, my own baby on iny knees, 

My leaping, dimpled treasure, 
At every word I write like these, 

Clasped close with stronger pressure ? 
Too well my own heart understands,— 

At every word beats fuller — 
My little feet, my little hands, 

And hair of Lily's colour. 
But God gives patience, Love learns strength 

And Faith remembers promise, 
And Hope itself can smile at length 

On other hopes gone from us. 
Love, strong as Death, shall conquer Death,. 

Through struggle, made more glorious: 
This mother stills her sobbing breath, 

Renouncing yet victorious. 
Anns, empty of her child, she lifts 

With spirit unbereaven, — 
" God will not take back all His gifts; 

My Lily's mine in heaven. 
"Still mine! maternal rights serene, 

Not given to another! 
The crystal bars shine faint between 

The souls of child and mother. 
" Meanwhile, " the mother cries, "content? 

Our love was well divided: 
Its sweetness following where she went, 

Its anguish stayed where I did. 
" Well done of God, to halve the lot, 

And give her all the sweetness; 
To us, the empty room, and cot, — 

To her, the Heaven's completeness. 
1 i To us, this grave, — to her, the rows- 

The mystic palm-trees spring in; 
To us, the silence in the house, — 

To her, the choral singing. 



A MESSENGER OF HEAVEN. 



415 



"For her, to gladden in God's view, — 

For us, to hope and bear on. 
Grow, Lily, in thy garden new 

Beside the Rose of Sharon! 
"Grow fast in Heaven, sweet Lily clipped, 

In love more calm than this is, 
And may the angels, dewy-lipped, 

Remind thee of our kisses ! 
"While none shall tell thee of our tears, 

These human tears now falling, 
Till, after a few patient years, 

One home shall take us all in — 
"Child, father, mother — who, left out? 

Not mother, and not father ! 
And when, our dying couch about, 

The natural mists shall gather, — 
" Some smiling angel close shall stand, 

In old Correggio's fashion. 
And bear a Lily in his hand, 

For death's Annunciation." * 



A MESSENGER OF HEAVEN, 

Mrs. Hemaxs. 

No bitter tears for thee be shed, 

Blossom of being! seen and gone! 
With flowers alone we strew thy bed, 

0 blest departed One ! 
Whose all of life, a rosy ray, 
Blush' d into dawn and pass'd away. 

* A Selection from the Poetiy of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. London 
Chapman & Hall 1866. 



416 



WOEDS OF COMFOKT. 



Yes! thou art fled, ere guilt had power 

To stain thy cherub soul and form- 
Closed is the soft ephemeral flower, 

That never felt a storm! 
The sunbeam's smile, the zephyr's breath, 
Ail that it knew from birth to death. 



Thou wert so like a form of light, 

That Heaven benignly call'd thee hence 
Ere yet the world could breathe one blight 

O'er thy sweet innocence: 
And thou, that brighter home to bless 
Art pass'd with all thy loveliness! 



Oh! hadst thou still on earth remained, 

Vision of beauty ! fair, as brief! 
How soon thy brightness had been stain'd 

With passion or with grief! 
Now not a sullying breath can rise 
To dim thy glory in the skies. 



We rear no marble o'er thy tomb— 

No sculptured image there shall mourn • 
Ah! fitter far the vernal bloom 

Such dwelling to adorn. 
Fragrance, and flowers, and dews, must be 
The only emblems meet for thee. 



Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine, 

Adorn'd with nature's brightest wreath- 
Each glowing season shall combine 

Its incense there to breathe; 
And oft upon the midnight air ' 
Shall viewless harps be murmuring there. 



OUR WEE WHITE KOSE. 



417 



And oh ! sometimes in visions blest, 

Sweet spirit ! visit our repose; 
And bear from thine own world of rest, 

Some balm for human woes ! 
What form more lovely could be given 
Than thine to messenger of Heaven ?* 



OUR, WEE WHITE ROSE. 

Gerald Mas set. 

All in our marriage garden 

Grew, smiling up to God, 
A bonnier flower than ever 

Suckt the green warmth of the sod. 
O beautiful unfathomably 

Its little life unfurled ; 
Love's crowiiing sweetness was our wee 

White Rose of all the world. 

From out a balmy bosom, 

Our bud of beauty grew; 
It fed on smiles for sunshine, 

And tears for daintier dew. 
Aye nestling warm and tenderly, 

Our leaves of love were curled 
So close and close about our wee 

White Rose of all the world. 

Two flowers of glorious crimson 

Grew with our Rose of light; 
Still kept the sweet heaven-grafted slip 

Her whiteness saintly white. 

* Poems of Felicia Hemans. William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh 
and London. 1SG5. 



418 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



I' the wind of life they danced with glee,, 

And reddened as it whirled; 
More white and wondrous grew our wee- 

White Eose of all the world. 

With mystical faint fragrance, 

Our house of life she filled — 
Revealed each hour some fairy tower, 

Where winged Hopes might build. 
We saw — though none like us might see — - 

Such precious promise pearled 
Upon the petals of our wee 

White Eose of all the world. 

But evermore the halo 

Of Angel-light increased; 
Like the mystery of Moonlight, 

That folds some fairy feast, 
Snow-white, snow-soft, snow- silently, 

Our darling bud up-curled, 
And dropt i' the Grave — God's lap — our wee? 

White Eose of all the world. 

Our Eose was but in blossom; 

Our Life was but in spring; 
When down the solemn midnight 

We heard the Spirits sing : 
4 * Another bud of infancy, 

With holy dews impearled;' , 
And in their hands they bore our wee 

White Eose of ail the world. 

You scarce could think so small a thing 

Could leave a loss so large; 
Her little light such shadow fling, 

From dawn to sunset's marge. 



OUR WEE WHITE ROSE. 



419 



In other springs our life may be 

In bannered bloom unfurled; 
But never, never match our wee 

White Kcse of all the world. 

0 ye who say, "We have a child in heaven;" 
And know how far away that heaven may seem; 
Who have felt that desolate isolation sharp 
Denned in Death's own face; who have stood beside 
The Silent River, and stretcht out pleading hands 
For some sweet Babe upon the other bank, 
That went forth where no human hand might lead, 
And left the shut house with no light, no sound, 
No answer, when the mourners wail without! 
What we have known, ye know, and only know. 



Then the Physician left our door ajar 

A moment, and the grim thief Death stole in. 

Some Angel, passiug o'er life's troubled sea, 

Had seen our Jewel shine celestial pure, 

And Death must win it for her bosom pearl. 

We stood at Midnight in the Presence dread. 

At midnight, when Men die, we strove with Deatii,, 

To wrench our jewel from his grasping hand. 

Ere the soul loosed from its last ledge of life, 

Her little face peered round with anxious eyes, 

Then, seeing all the old faces, dropt content. 

The mystery dilated in her look, 

Which, on the darkening death-ground, faintly caught. 

The likeness of the Angel shining near. 

Her passing soul nasht back a glimpse of bliss. 

She was a Child no more, but strong and stern 

As a mailed Knight that had been grappling Deatiu. 

A crown of conquest bound her baby -brow; 



420 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Her little hands could take the heirdom large; 
And all her Childhood's vagrant royalty- 
Sat staid and calm in some eternal throne. 
Love's kiss is sweet, but Death's doth make immortal! 



Our leaves are shaken from the tree, 

Our hopes laid low, 
That after our Spring-nurslings, we 

May long to go. 

The warm love -nest our little Doves leave 

With helpless moan, 
As they for us at heart would grieve 

In heaven — alone! 

The tender Shepherd beckoningly 

Our Lambs doth hold, 
That we may take our own when He 

Makes up the fold. * 



BABE CHE 1ST ABEL. 

Gerald Massey. 

In this dim world of clouding cares, 
W e rarely know, till wildered eyes 
See white wings lessening up the skies, 

The Angels with us unawares. 

And thou hast stolen a jewel, Death ! 
Shall light thy dark up like a Star, 
A Beacon kindling from afar 

Our light of love, and fainting faith. 

Thro' tears it streams perpetually, 

And glitters thro' the thickest glooms, 
Till the eternal morning comes 
To light us o'er the Jasper Sea. 
Poetical Works of Gerald Massey. London : Routledge & Co, 



BABE CHRISTABEL. 



421 



With our best branch in tenderest leaf, 

We've strewn the way our Lord doth come; 
And, ready for the harvest -home, 

His Reapers bind our ripest sheaf. 

Our beautiful Bird of light hath fled: 
Awhile she sat with folded wings- 
Sang round us a fsw hoverings — 

Then straightway into glory sped. 

With sense of Motherhood new-found 

The white-winged Angels nurture her, 
High on the heavenly hills of myrrh, 

And all Love's purple glory round. 

Thro' Childhood's morning-land, serene 

She walkt betwixt us twain, like Love; 
While, in a robe of light above, 

Her better Angel walkt unseen, 

Till Life's highway broke bleak and wild; 
Then, lest her starry garments trail 
In mire, heart bleed, and courage fail, 

The Angel's arms caught up the child. 

Her wave of life hath backward roll'd 
To the great ocean; on whose shore 
We wandered up and down, to store 

Some treasures of the times of old : 

And aye we seek and hunger on 

For precious pearls and relics rare, 
Strewn on the sands for us to wear 

At heart, for love of her that's gone. 

0 weep no more ! there yet is balm 
In Gilead ! Love doth ever shed 
Rich healing where it nestless, — spread, 

O'er desert pillows, some green Palm! 



422 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Strange glory streams thro' Life's wild rents, 
And thro' the open door of Death 
We see the heaven that beckoneth 

To the beloved going hence. 

God's ichor fills the hearts that bleed; 

The best fruit loads the broken bough; 

And in the wounds our sufferings plough, 
Immortal Love sows sovereign seed. * 



OUR WHITE DOVE. 

Gerald Masse v. 



Cut, dear my Christie, do not cry, 
Our White Dove left for you and me 
Such blessed promise as must be 

Perfected in the heavens high. 

The stars that shone in her dear eyes 
May be a little while withdrawn, 
To rise and lead the eternal dawn 

For us, up heaven in other skies. 

Our Bird of God but soars and sings: 
Oft when life's heaving wave's at rest, 
She makes her mirror in my breast, 

I feel a winnowing of wings; 

And meekly doth she minister 

Glad thoughts of comfort, thrills of pride; 
She makes me feel that if I died 

This moment I should go to her. 

The Poetical Works of Gerald Massey. London : Routledge & Co. 



O LITTLE CHILD. 



423 



Be good! and you shall find her where 
No wind can shake the wee bird's nest; 
No dreams can break the wee bird's rest; 

No night, no pain, no parting there! 

No echoes of old storms gone by! 

Earth's sorrows slumber peacefully; 

The weary are at rest, for He 
Shall wipe the tears from every eye.* 



O LITTLE CHILD. 

J. Stanyan Bigg. 

O little child! that earnest, and art gone, 

Whose tiny footprints are upon our hearts; 

O little wonder of the dreaming eyes, 

Whose dreams we saw not, and could never see; 

Who wert with us, and yet we knew thee not, 

Nor thought that, underneath our quiet roof, 

An angel harboured with us for a time, 

And was our child, and is our child no more, 

Being familiar with the floor of heaven, 

And dwelling nigh unto the throne of God ! 

Dost ever think of us, as we of thee? 

Dost ever bend thy beaming brow, 0 child ! 

Only a little space— a little space— 

And turn from all the glories of thy home 

To look into the lorn hearts thou hast left? 

And we, O child ! who tend our daily tasks, 
Go in and out, and weep with those who weep, 
And laugh with those who laugh, and buy and sell, 
And travel o'er the dusty highways still 

* Poems by Gerald Massey. London : TrUbner & Co. 



424- 



WOKDS OF OOMFORT. 



As though thou wert nor. and hads: never been. 
As when we knew thy lirtle s;my i 
Would surely greet us at the garden-gate; — 
Dost think that we forget thee. 0 our child 

Not always are we in the weary mart; 

Not always are we plodding in the street; 

We. in our rural home, when the prey dusk 

Falls upon copse and meadow, saunter out. 

And do not talk, but think of thee, O child ! 

And in the night, when heavy hearts are hushed. 

In the deep night we -hear the beating rain, 

And in the beating rain the wailing wind, 

And in the wailing wind a cry. a low. 

Soft cry, not as of agony, but bliss — 

A silvery cry, as though we heard a thrill 

Of spirit -music, far beyond the rain. 

Beyond the wailings of the wind, beyond 

The storms end gloomy reaches of the iriaaht.— - 

Out of the golden spaces far beyond. 

And then we dream. We do but dream. 0 child : 

0 little child! that earnest, and art g:ue. 

That wert our child, and art our child no more, 

We dream thou hast not yet forgotten us. 

But yearnest from thy starry home, as we 

Yearn towards the heavens for thee. We do but dream, 

And in our dreainings are not quite forlorn. 

Thy room is here, sweet babe ! We enter it — 

The room, but oh ! the child. Thy little bed 

Is white in moonlight; — Oh ! for the beauteous form. 

Thy toys are trembling in our palms — hut eh : 

The tiny, dimpled hands that fingered them. 

The stairs are here;— but oh ! the little feet 

G-one ! Gone for ever ! Yet we hope to reach 

The heaven that holds thee; ami with humble hearts, 



IT IS WELL. 



425 



Thank God for thee, 0 child ! We know that thou 
Art seeing now, and not as in a dream, 
The things we long for, and shall never see 
Until we join thee in the after-world;— 
Thee, little child! who earnest and art gone, 
Who'wert our child, and art onr child no more, 
Being familiar with the floor of heaven, 
And dwelling nigh unto the throne of God! * 



IT IS WELL. 

Alexander Smith, Edinburgh. 
As a wild mother, when her child is dead, 
Flings herself down on the unheeding lace, 
And pours more passionate kisses on the lips 
Than when they kissed again, and then starts up, 
And, in a dreamy luxury of grief, 
Strews the white corse with flowers:— "I lay thee out, 
My poor dead love, and fondlier gaze on thee, 
Than when thou smiled amid thy golden hair, 
And sang more sweet than Hope. l\ T o tears: for Death 
Saw thee when loveliest, and his icy touch 
Preserves thy look forever. • It is well: 
The only things that change not are the dead. 
Now thou art safe from Time's defacing hand, 
From staling custom, and, sadder far than all. 
From human fickleness. In after years, 
It might be, I would scarce have followed thee, 
A mourner to thy grave. Thou art so fair, 
That, gazing on thee, clamorous grief becomes 
For very reverence, mute. If mighty Death 

* Shifting Scenes and other Poems. By J. Stanyan Bigg. London: 
William Freeman, 1862. [This promising poet died suddenly on the 20th 
of May. 1865, aged thirty-seven years.] 

e 2 



426 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Made our rude human faces by his touch 
Divinely fair as thine, 0, never more 
Would strong hearts break o'er biers. Th 
to-night 

A sacred sweetness on thy silent lips, 
A solemn light upon thine ample brow, 
That I can never, never hope to find 
Upon a living face. Within thy grave 
I'll lay thee ; and above will memory hano- 
An ever-mourning willow ! M * 



MARY. 
David Wlxgate. 
Why are those eyes so dull ? 

J oy sparkled there. 
Why are those lips so pale ? 

Ah ! they declare 
Life's light hath fled away. 
£Tow thou art only clay ; 
Smiles round thy lips will play, 

Mary, nae mair. 

Flowers on the braes are seen, 

Faded flower, fair; 
Birds sing, in woodlands green, 

Love's sweetest air; 
Burns 'neath the warm sunshine 
Bipple their hymns divine ; 
• But thou their joy will join, 

Mary, nae mair. 

Emblem of purest truth, 

This was our prayer, 
'•'Father, her trustful youth 

Guard from each snare. " 
* City Poems. By Alex. Smith. London : 3Iacmillaii & Co. 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 



Ah ! thou art guarded now; 
Over thy lily brow 
Care will its shadow throw, 
Mary, nae mair. 

Gentle and kind thy heart, 

Child of our love ; 
Eow thou an angel art, 

Watching above. 
Yes ! and thou hope hast given 
That we shall meet in heaven, 
And be asunder riven, 

Mary, nae mair.* 



THE ANGELS' SONG. 
James D. Burns, M.A. 

I heard the angels singing 

As they went up through the sky, 
A sweet infant's spirit bringing 

To its Father's house on high: 
i ' Happy thou, so soon ascended, 

With thy shining raiment on ! 
Happy thou, whose race is ended 

With a crown so quickly won ! 

4 ' Hushed is now thy lamentation. 

And the first words to thee given 
Will be words of adoration 

In the blessed speech of Heaven; 
For the blood thou mightst have slighted 

Hath now made thee pure within, 
And the evil seed is blighted 

That had ripened unto sin. 



* Poems by Pavid Wingate. Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons 



428 



WORDS OF COMFORT 



"We will lead thee by a river, 

Where the flowers are blooming fair; 
We will sing to thee for ever, 

"For no night may darken there. 
Thou shalt walk in robes of glory; 

Thou shalt wear a golden crown; 
Thou shalt sing Redemption's story, 

With the saints around the throne. 

"Thou shalt see that better country, 

Whera a tear-drop never fell, — 
Where a foe made never entry, 

And a friend ne'er said farewell;* 
Where, upon the radiant faces 

That will shine on thee alway, 
Thou shalt never see the traces 

Of estrangement or decay. 

"Thee we bear, a lily-blossom, 

To a sunnier clime above; 
There to lay thee in a bosom 

Warm with more than mother's love. 
Happy thou, so timely gathered 

From a region cold and bare, 
To bloom on, a flower unwithered, 

Through an endless summer there ! " 

Through the night that dragged so slowly, 

Watched a mother by a bed; 
Weeping wildly, kneeling lowly, 

She would not be comforted. 

* 41 Days without night, joys without sorrow, sanctity without sin r 
charity without stain, possession without fear, society without envying' 
communication of joys without lessening; and they shall dwell" in a 
blessed country, where an enemy never entered, and from whence a friend 
never went away.'' — Jeremy Taylor. 



OUR LILY. 



To her lost one she was clinging, 

Raining tears upon a shroud; 
And those angel -voices singing 

Could not reach her through the cloud. * 



OUE LILY. 

Mrs. Augusta "Webster. 

The angels dropped us a wee white flower — 
Yes, surely it was from Heaven it fell: 
Then came the wind and the beating shower, 
But it was sheltered down in our dell. 

And it grew, and grew, through the fresh spring days, 
The sweetest blossom that ever God made : 
Then came thg> sun with his scorching rays, 
But down in our dell there was cool and shade. 

And it grew, and grew, in the summer air, 
It was a Lily of Paradise, 
And we watched it open each day more fair, 
Nothing on earth so dear in our eyes. 

And tenderly we fenced it about, 
And the angels of Heaven they guarded it well : 
Then came the time of the sultry drought, 
But the brook ran clear in our shadowy dell. 

So it grew, and grew, come foul, come fair, 
And never a soil on its whiteness stood, 
And, because the angels made it their care, 
From good and bad it drew only good. 

* The Vision of Prophecy, and other Poems. By James D. Bums, 31. A. 
London : James Nisbet & Co. I860. 



430 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And, oh ! the blessing to see it grow! 

And I think that our hearts both grew as it grew, 

And, oh ! we loved it, we loved it so ! 

And we called it ours, and thought we spoke true. 

But at last it had grown so sweet and so white, 
That the angels could not leave it us still, 
And they came and took it away in the night, 
One sad, still night, when the mist was chill. 

And oh ! the blank when our Lily went ! 

And we look in each other's faces alone, 

And we say sometimes, " Well, it was but lent." 

Yet, even in Heaven, we call it our own! 

And I think it must be meant for us at last, 
For would God have made us love it in vain ? 
Perhaps, if the gates of Heaven were past, 
His hand wo'ild give us our blossom again."" 



I'M GOING HOME, 

Rev. Dr. John Macfarlane, London. 
"I'm going Home ! I'm going Home!" 
Were strains in which a sweet boy sung, 
As down the avenue he swung 
One autumn eve, from childish fun, 
Obedient to his mother's call, 

Who beckon'd on him from the Hall 

"Tin going Home ! I'm going Home ! " 
Was still the chorus of his song. 

Across the path, from tree to tree, 
He lengthened out his twilight play, 
Averse to close that happy day; 
JSTow and again, all o'er the way, 

* A Woman Sold, and other Poems. By Augusta Webster. London and 
Cambridge : A. Macmillan & Co. 1S67. 



i'm going home. 



He chased the leaf; and wondering why 
Such pretty things are doom'd to die,- 
" I'm going Home ! Fm going Home ! " 
Was yet the burden of his song. 

"The leaves are falling, Nurse," he'd say, 
As gently down in bed he lay: 
"Is summer gone? must flowers decay ? 
And are the singing birds away? " 
The Nurse compos'd the boy to sleep, 
Inclin'd, she knew not how, to weep; 
For, as he slumber'd, still he sung, 
"I'm going Home ! I'm going Home 1" 

The morning dawned. But where's the boy ? 
Alas ! he's laid him down to die. 
As leaves are withering on the tree, 
So frost of Death, you soon may see, 
Has blighted that sweet blooming flower 
Before the chant of matin hour, 
Which told the secret of his song— 
" I'm going Home ! I'm going Home 1 " 

He's going Home— where leaves ne"er sear, 
Where flowers aye bloom and skies are clear, 
Where cherubs wipe away the tear 
That starts as death is drawing near 1 
For, though a boy, he loved us all, 
And nam'd each inmate of the Hall; 
As, with his eye on heav'n, he sung 
" I'm going Home ! I'm going Home ! ' 

But where's the sire? why absent now, 
When sudden death has dealt the blow 
That lays his favourite child so low, 
And when maternal tears do flow? 



432 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



On duty bent, afar he's gone, 
Xor dreams such dismal work is done. 
He comes at length: they hear his moan, 
As nature cries, "My Son! my Son!" 

"And there's thy Home, my darling boy?"" 
The mother asks: "Where peace and joy 
Abound," he said, "without alloy." 
And Home he ; s gone ! He drops the toy 
Of earthly love, and seizes now 
The crown which glorifies the brow 
Of little children, as they sing 
Within the palace of the King ! 

Then let the chorus of this song, 

" I'm going Home ! I'm going Home ! " 

Be ever ours the while we roam 

To climes of life by us unknown ! 

And thus we'll keep our hearts from earth; 

And from the germs of heavenly birth 

We'll rise in meetness for the throne 

Prepar'd for us in Jesus' Home. * 



TO A MOTHEK BEREAVED OF HER FIRST-BORX. 

Rev. Hexp.y Batchelok, Glasgow. 
The life etherial, sublime, 
Wastes not beneath the senseless clod. 
The folded bud has changed its clime, 
And opens in the light of God — 
The soul its mortal chrysalis has riven, 
And spreads its wings a seraph bright in heaven. 



* "Why Weepest Thou?" By Joim Macfarlane, LL.D., Claphj 
London: James Xisbet & Co. 



wee katie's gane — a mither's lament. 



433 



WEE KATIE'S GANE— A MITHEU'S LAMENT.* 

John Young, Glasgow. 
My angel lassie, art thou gane 

Tae thy lang rest, 
An' maun the cruel cauld grave-stane 

Close thy wee nest ? 
Maun love a' corners seek for thee, 
Expectin' aye thy form tae see, 
While empty echo answers me, 

"Wee Katies gane?" 

J Tis na alane puir I that miss 

Thy winnin' smile; 
Thy daddie waits the evening kiss 

That cheered his toil; 
He gangs 'boot dowie noo an' wae, 
An' rarely has a word tae say 
Save murmurin' the lee lang day, 

"Wee Katie's gane!" 

But 'tis the lot o' human kind 

In this chill sphere, 
Whene'er they hae big hopes entwined 

Koun' object dear, 
That some snell blast comes roarin' on: 
A reel, a crash; their treasure gone; 
And anguish wails in husky moan, 

" Wee Katie's gane ! " 

Still, dear guidman, let's dicht our tears; 

At least, let's try: 
Our bairnie's safe wi' Him wha hears 

Our ilka sigh : 

* These lines were suggested to the author, by the death of Catherine, 
the eldest beloved child of the editor's old friend, Robert Eae. She 
died April 2, 1859. 



434 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Tho' while we're in earth's murky hole 
We may fin't mica hard tae thole, 
As mem'ry whispers tae the soul 
" Wee Katie's gane ! " 

0 ! Thou wha temperest the win' 
Tae lamb shorn bare, 

Guard us frae rowin' ower the linn 
0 black despair ! 

Enable us, oh gracious God ! 

To bear this sair, saul-crushing load, 

Till laid in peace aneath the clod 
Wi' Katie gane ! 



THY WILL BE DONE. 

Mbs. Jaxet Hamilton, Langloan, Coatbridge. 

Ix sable garments darkly clad, 

With heavy eyes and aching head, 

Sat a mother pale and worn; 

She had seen but yestermorn, 

With anguish deep and sorrow wild, 

The coffin close upon her child — 

A lovely, loving, prattling thing, 

That wont her evening hymn to sing 

At mother's knee. — With grave sweet look 

And silvery voice, like tinkling brook. 

The mother oft in fond amaze 

In her darling's eyes would gaze, 

Wondering where her infant mind 

Such questions and replies could find. 

Once she bade her mother linger, 

Pointing with her small white finger, 

With a childish admiration, 

To some beaming constellation — 



THY WILL BE DOXE. 



Saying, do tliey shine so bright 

Just to give the angels' light 

Flying down from Heaven to keep 

Watch above us when we sleep? 

Mother, when to Heaven I go, 

How I wish it might be so — 

Sky so blue and stars so bright, 

That the angels may have light, 

When along the starry road 

They bear my soul to Heaven and God. 

Oft the mother told, with tears, 

How she ever had her fears, 

That her darling would not stay 

Long on earth — but soar away 

When the early call should come, 

To leave the earth for "Heaven her home.' 

And ah, the mother's boding fears 

Were soon fulfilled. Through blinding tea 

She saw the little fragile form, 

Bend like a lily in the storm — 

Pillowed upon the couch of death, 

With heaving chest and struggling breath : 

And while the small white hand she presse 

She heard in whispered sounds expressed 

These words—" I die, dear ma, adieu ! 

1 go to heaven and wait for you. 

Dear Jesus says, to me 'tis given 

To see my Father's face in heaven." 

She said no more. Her sinking head 

The mother raised — her child was dead ! 

But ah, I may not, cannot tell 

The crushing weight of woe that fell 

Upon the childless mother's heart. 

Oh! it was hard, so hard to part — 

She could not say, Thy will be done, 

But mournful sat and pined alone. 



436 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



But soon there came a better day, 
Near to her hand her Bible lay — 
She took it up. Within the hour 
The word of God came home with, power, 
With hope, and peace, and resignation 
From the God of consolation. — 
She read how God spared not His Son — 
His well-beloved, His only one, 
But gave Him up to die for those 
Who were by sin and nature foes — 
And, while her tears fell down like rain, 
She said, Oh rebel heart, in vain 
Thou striv'st against the hand divine 
That took its own; she was not thine. 
Thy will be done ! — she wiped her cheek, 
And bowed her head, submissive, meek. 

Ye mourners for the early dead, 

Whose hearts at every pore have bled; 

Oh seek and find — Oh ever look 

"For Wojkds of Comfort"— from The Book. 



THE BUDDING BOSE. 

Mrs. Janet Hamilton, 

My life's first flower, my early budding rose 
That flourished by my side, — soon to disclose 
Her tender beauties in life's sunny morn, 
The home parterre to gladden and adorn. 

But, ah ! while gazing, with a mother's pride 

Upon the opening rose-bud by my side, 

The mildew of disease fell on my flower; 

She withered, drooped, and fell beneath its power. 



HE OLD CHURCHYARD. 



43 



Take comfort, Christian mother, she is gone 
Where sickness, pain, and death are words unknown; 
What joy awaits thee on that blissful shore, 
Where she, thy loved, not lost, is gone before! 



THE OLD CHUECHYARD. 
Mrs. Janet Hamilton. 

Lone field of graves ! our churchyard old and hoar ! 

Trench'd deep, and sow 'd by death with mortal grain 
Decayed, and dead it lies— not evermore! 

All, all shall live— shall rise to life again! 

With lingering step, in solemn, musing mood, 
I pass within the time-worn lichen'd walls; 

A softened awe steals o'er me as I brood 

On scenes and forms that memory still recalls. 

My dreamy eyes, dim with unconscious tears. 

Gaze sadly on a small enclosed space; 
A wild-rose brier its tender greenery rears, 

And sheds its fragrant blossoms o'er the place. 

Within that space my sainted mother sleeps; 

Her grandchild's grandchild slumbers at her feet; 
One grave the mortal relics safely keeps 

Of five fair infants— sinless, pure, and sweet ! 



Lone field of graves, farewell! Old Churchyard hoar, 
I go; but must, and will return again; 

I come, but may not go as heretofore. 

Till time, and death shall die, with thee remain, 



WORDS OF COMFOHT. 



LITTLE DORA. 

Janet Hamilton, Langloan. 
Too fair, too pale, too pure and wise 
For earth, she early sought the slues; 
Her fair broad brow and hazel eyes, 
Instinct with genius, ever rise 

On Memory's mournful eye. 

Oh ! gifted child of love and song, 
Could prayers and tears thy stay prolong, 
How had they flowed ! The angel throng 
Bore on their wings, with joy and song, 
Our darling to the sky. 

Fair star ! at thy terrestrial birth 
I hailed thee — watched thy course on earth; 
Grave were thy joys, and quiet thy mirth — 
The radiant orb, soon lost to earth, 
Is shining high in heaven. 

Thy earthly home a rural cot 
With roses draped, with many a plot 
Of flowers — earth holds no lovelier spot- 
All, all remains, but thou art not, 

For thou wert lent, not given. * 



"OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN." 
Mrs. David Henderson, Glasgow. 
Yes, I know my child is happy 
In the mansions of the blest — 
Ransom' d through her Saviour's merits 
Folded to her Saviour's breast. 

Poems and Sketches. By Janet Hamilton, Authoress of "Poems and 
says." Glasgow: Murray & Son; London: J. Nishet & Co. 1S65 



46 OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN." 



439 



Still, niy weary head is aching, 
And my lonely heart is breaking, 
Longing for my little daughter 
In the cold, cold grave at rest. 

Gone ! sweet baby, gone forever. 
But 'tis selfish to repine, 
All is gain to thee, my darling, 
All the bitter loss is mine. 
Even the thought of thy salvation 
Brings me yet no consolation, 
Oh, my baby, all the brightness 
Of my being flowed from thine ! 

Still before my slumbering eyelids 
Floats an infant robed in white, 
Still a baby-voice comes thrilling- 
Through the echoes of the night; 
And I breathe a dreamy blessing, 
Soothing, murmuring, caressing; 
Then I wake to dreary darkness; 
Heavenly Saviour! send me light! 

Let me see the Day Spring dawning, 
Oh Thou bright and blessed Sun ; 
Lighten up my heart's deep darkness, 
Cause its frozen founts to run, 
Till they flow forth and adore Thee ; 
Till my spirit bows before Thee, 
Till I say, "Oh Heavenly Father," 
Not my will, but Thine be done! 



440 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE VACANT CORNER. 

Mrs. David Henderson, Glasgow. 

I wend my way to the dear old church, 

And sadly I think of thee; 

I gaze at thy own familiar place; 

But the radiance of thy fair young face 

Beameth no more on me — Annie. 

Slowly, slowly my tears well up, 

As the solemn psalm is sung; 

While in my ear its cadence rings, 

A still small voice to my sad heart sings, 

"Whom the Lord loves die young'* — Annie. 

I hear, like a dreamer, the voice of prayer 

Addressed to the heavenly throne; 

I see in my dream an island fair, 

And a snow-white marble tablet, where 

Thou sleepest all alone — Annie. 



RESIGNED IN HOPE. 

William T. M'Auslane, Glasgow. 

Our little boy is dead ! 
His gladsome voice, whose music lately filled 
Our homes and hearts, is now for ever stilled! 
How changed his looks ! Closed are his bright eyes now;: 
Pale is his cheek, as marble cold his brow; 
Those limbs, before so active, are at rest, 
The spring is broken, motionless the breast, 

Life, light, and joy are fled ! 



NOT DEAD BUT CHANGED. 



441 



Oh, earthly hopes, how vain ! 
Frail is the fabric, fair though it appear, 
Which on uncertain human life we rear; 
Before some sudden storm it yields away, 
A ruin lies, and sinks into decay. 
So have our hopes of what, in future days, 
Our boy might prove, crumbled before our gaze, 

Ne'er to revive again ! 

But why should we repine? 
Our darling child was only ours in loan, 
God, when He lent him, lent what was His own. 
And shall we feel displeased He now should come 
To claim and take him to the Heavenly Home ? 
0 rather let us, though 'tis sad to part, 
Yield up the loved one, and, with thankful heart. 

Bow to the will Divine ! 

Then let our tearful eyes 
Turn from the little tenement of clay 
From which the ransom' d soul has passed away. 
Let us behold, by faith, that land so fair, 
Now dearer to us that our boy is there. 
And may we seek to join him on that shore 
Where, when we meet, we meet to part no more, 
But dwell beyond the skies. 



NOT DEAD BUT CHANGED. 

William Freeland, Glasgow. 

Late living, and now dead! 0 beauteous bey, 
So early dead, who wast so late a joy ! 
Ah, me ! how still and strange 
Is this God's dream of change ! 
Transfigured in the light of death, 
Thou seemest breathing without breath ! 

F 2 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



How shall we nil our hearts with other glee, 
Who loved, of ail the world, but thee— but thee I 

Can ever we behold 

So sweet a bud unfold? 
0 pale cold snowdrop of our married spring, 
How deep God pierces with so slight a thing! 

So slight a thing ! Man's pyramids shall yield 
Their high borne heads unto the humblest field: 

Each ancient star and sun 

Shall crumble one by one : 
But thou, who keep'st with death such early tryst 
Shalt bloom eternal in the realms of Christ ! 



DIRGE FOE A BABY. 

Whjjam Fbeelaito, Glasgow. 
Under a silvery willow, 
A cold sod for a pillow, 

Lies his beauteous head: 
Weeps o'er his bed the willow 
Like mother o'er the pillow 

Of her baby dead. 

In his white shroud low lying, 
Xor breathing, smiling, sighing, 

Bless the baby-saint! 
Sweet is our melancholy, 
That gracious heaven and holy, 

Took him without taint. 

O come away and leave him, 
We cannot glad nor grieve him, 

Lying there so sweet: 
Such sleep is only seeming; 
He wakes, and we are dreaming 

On our living feet. 



little Wilfrid's sleep. 



443 



The grave no more is fearful; 
Our saint hath made it cheerful, 

Without tear or moan : 
O come! though Death hath slain him, 
Not Death, but God doth gain him, 

God alone, alone! 



LITTLE WILFRID'S SLEEP. 

Robert Gillespie, Ealkirk. 

Little Wilfrid gone to rest; 
Sweet as cherub, fitly dressed, 
As a Saviour's saintly guest. 

Baby-bud, in wisdom taken 

To that land, where bloom unshaken 

Throne-flowers never sun-forsaken. 

Passing strange that should be seen 
Reaper with his sickle keen, 
Mowing harvest fields so green. 

The aged, yellow for the sheaf, 
May fall without the wail of grief; 
Earth- weary, long they for relief. 

Sweetly sleep' st thou on thy bier; 
Heaven 'twould seem is very near; 
Little Wilfrid thou art here. 

Just one kiss — the last on earth — 
God-given darling of our hearth ! 
Dead, but to diviner birth. 

Great our joy when home thou earnest, 
Picture-born of him thou namest; 
Evermore our love thou claimest. 



4U 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



'Twas thy winning, gleeful heart, 
Made it sad with thee to part, 
Gave thy going back its smart. 

Yet those years must number few, 
Ere to earth we bid adieu, 
Crowned in heaven, rejoining you. 



THE FADELESS CROWN. 
Rev. John Anderson, Helensburgh. 
I saw thee with thy shining hair, 
Bright clustering on thy brow, 
Ere grief had dimmed the radiance there :^ 
A happy child wert thou. 

No cloud had then thy sky o'er spread; 

Then every scene was fair, 
Each flower for thee its beauty shed, 

And music filled the air. 

Again I saw thee, and thy brow 

Bore marks of suffering keen; 
But more than this— what mark'd thee now 

Was thy deep thoughtful mien. 

A spirit's look thine eye had caught, 
Thy voice had changed its tone, 

And still in years a child,— in thoughts 
Thou wert a woman grown. 

I stood beside thy dying bed, 

And watch'd the conflict there, 
When, by a child defeated, fled 

The giant of Despair. 



GONE TO BLISS BEFORE US. 



U5 



Yet deeni'd we not the fight was fought 
By strength or skill of thine; 

Thine armour had the Spirit wrought, 
Thy strength was strength Divine. 

I see thee now, the conflict o'er, 

The cross laid early down, 
Walking in white, on life's bright shore, 

Wearing its fadeless crown. 



GONE TO BLISS BEFORE US. 

James Macpaelan, Glasgow. 

Thou art gone to bliss before us, 

As the herald lark upsprings 
With an Angel-carol o'er us, 

And the beat of angel wings. 
As the setting sun in splendour 

Leaves a glory on the sea, 
So thine infant echoes tender 

Light my path of misery. 

Thou art gone to bliss before us, 

Yet I dare not dream thee lost, 
For the weight of love you bore us 

And thy beauty's priceless cost. 
I should madden in the midnight 

Did I miss thy radiant form, 
Like an Iris flashing sunlight 

O'er the black wings of the storm. 

Thou art gone to bliss before us, 
Yet we scarce could wish thee back 

To mar that heavenly chorus 

With a long and trembling track. 



446 



WORDS OF COMFOKT. 



But we'll hear thy blissful singing 
In the burthen of the bowers, ° 

And behold thy beauty springing 
In the love-looks of the flowers. 



A CHRISTMAS CAE 0 L. 

Feom " Household Words." 
I had a child— a lovelier little cherub 
Never frolick'd in this happy world; 
In his dark eyes shone his father's spirit, 
Eound his head soft golden ringlets curPd. 

All I had left to love— with blind devotion, 
I almost worshipped him— my child, my pride! 
The Lord looked down: in mercy and compassion 
Chastened me again; my baby died! 

'Twas on Christmas Eve: my boy was lying, 
Worn with suffering, moaning on my breast j 
Even I called, in bitterness and anguish, 
Death to come, if Death would give him' rest. 

Still the baby linger'd, tossing wildly: 
Then I thought how ancient legends say 
Door or window must be open'd widely, 
That death may, entering, bear the soul away. 

Eose I, then, with cold and trembling fingers 
Oped the door: in robes of shining white- 
Soft radiance dropping from his starry chaplet^ 
Stood God's messenger before my sight. 

In the darken'd room the angel glided 
(Moan'd no more the child upon my breast), 
Soft he spake: 4 < The Lord hath heard thy weeping. 
Death is come to give thy baby rest! " 



A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 



With divine compassion on his features, 
Still he spake: "Forlorn one, do not weep 
As without hope: our Gracious Master speaketh, 
Lo! I give to rny beloved — sleep! 

Death is sleep; but, 0! the glorious waking 
In the land where sorrow is no more! 
Patiently endure, then, as expecting 
Soon to join the loved ones gone before. 

Hark! the angels singing: Childless mother, 
They proclaim the Advent upon Earth 
Of the child Christ Jesus, on whose birth-day 
Hail with joy thy baby's heavenly birth." 

Then the light around the angel faded, 
I was left for evermore alone; 
Till I Heavenward turn'd for consolation, 
Where my husband and my child were gone. 

Thus my proud soul learnt humility, 
Learnt to kiss with gratitude the rod; 
Humbly striving to be good and patient, 
Meekly waiting for the voice of God! 

Thus I celebrate, alone and silent, 
On the Christmas Eve, a double birth! 
Thanking God, who took my child to Heaven; 
Praising God, who sent His child on Earth. 

For whose birth my soul is very joyful, 
Through whose blood I hope to be forgiven, 
By whose death I boldly pass the gateway 
Leading to His Father's home in Heaven' 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



A CHILD'S GRAVE. 

Household Words. 

Along the crowded path they bore her now; 

Pure as the new-fallen snow 
That covered it; whose day on earth 

Had been as fleeting. 
Under that porch, where she had sat when Heaven 
In mercy brought her to that peaceful spot, 
She passed again, and the old church 
Received her in its quiet shade. 

Oh! it is hard to take to heart 
The lesson that such deaths will teach; 
But let no man reject it, 
For it is one that all must learn, 
And is a mighty, universal Truth. 
When Death strikes down the innocent and youn- 
For every fragile form from which he lets 
The parting spirit free, 
A hundred virtues rise, 
In shapes of mercy, charity, and love, 
To walk the world and bless it. 
Of every tear 
That sorrowing mortals shed on such green graves 
Some good is born, some gentler nature comes. 



THE ANGEL AND THE INFANT. 

Theodore Martin. 
(From the French of Jean Keboulle, of Msmes.) 
An angel over a cradle stood; 

His visage shone with a radiant gleam; 
And he seem'd on his own fair form to brood 
In the mirror pure of a crystal stream. 



THE ANGEL AND THE INFANT. 



449 



Oh. come to my home, sweet babe so fair!" 

He murmur 5 d; "Come with, me now! 
All, we shall be happy together there; 

The earth is unworthy of such as thou, 

Its gladness is never without alloy; 

Some pang from its best delights will rise; 
A wail still rings through its shouts of joy, 

And all its pleasures are clogg'd with sighs. 

' O'er every feast is the fear of doom; 

No sky so clear and serene, but may 
Be blacken'd and riven with storm and gloom 
Before the dawn of another day. 

; On that pure brow shall the trouble pass 

Of hopes deceived, and of haunting fears ? 
Shall those blue eyes be bedimm'd, alas! 
By the bitter rain of regretful tears ? 

s No, no! dear babe, through the fields of space 
Thou wilt hy with me to a brighter sphere; 
God will not exact, in His boundless grace, 
The days that else thou hadst linger' d here. 

; No soil of sorrow, no taint of sin, 

From thy sojourn here on thy robes shall rest, 
The smiles that usher *d thy young life in 
Shall follow thee home to yon region blest. 

- On thy forehead no cloud shall a shadow fling, 
Nor the darkness there of the grave forecast; 
Of so unspotted and pure a thing 

The loveliest morning is still its last." 

And, slowly unfolding his wings snow-white, 

The angel ceased, and aloft he tied 
To the blest abodes of eternal light. 

Alas! poor mother! Thy boy is dead! * 

* Once A Week. September, IS 31. London: Bradbury 6z Evans. 



450 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



A MOTHER'S CHRISTMAS MORNING. 

Feom " The London Review." 

A little year, — a long twelvemonth ago 
My child was taken from me. Lord, I know 
It was Thy will, — and to Thy will I bow. 

On Christmas morn I lost my little one; 

The sun shone into the room, — but she was gone; 

I lean'd beside the tiny cot — alone. 

Time of sweet meetings and festivity! 

Bells rang, — and troops of glad friends murmur'd 

Only Thou heard' st through all my helpless cry! 

My little child that left me on this day! 
When I lift up my heart to Heaven, and pray, 
I feel as thou were not so far away. 

And on this Christmas morn I grow more near 

To thee and to thy home. I have no fear 

Of loss, — though thou art gone from me a year. 

If my tears fall, 'tis not for pain I weep, — 
I know that, up in Heaven, God will keep 
The little babe that with me went to sleep. 

And on this day of all God's blessed days 
Lift I my soul in humbleness and praise, 
Owning His mercy — asking for His grace. 

Thou who dost love to cleanse the sin-assoiled^ 
Help me to live my life, world-undeflled. 
Lest I should fear to meet my little child. 

Oh, pitying Father ! look Thou upon me, 
Give me Thy aid "a little child" to be, 
So I may hope one day my child to see! 



"THE THREE SONS." 



451 



I think those bells that from the earth upring, 

High in bright Heaven, are purely echoing, 

Their anguish'd sweetness doth such comfort brin£. 

Clear, clear above the clang of earthly noise, 

Distinct as dropping stars— a tiny voice 

Falls to my heart, and singeth there "Rejoice! 1 ' 



"THE THREE SONS." 

John Moultrie. 

I have a son, a little son, a boy just five years old, 
With eyes of thoughtful earnestness, and mind of gentle 
mould: 

They tell me that unusual grace in all his ways appears, 
That my child is grave and wise of heart beyond his childish 
years. 

I cannot say how this may be, I know his face is fair; 
And yet his chief est comeliness is his sweet and serious air: 
I know his heart is kind and fond, I know he loveth me, 
But loveth yet his mother more with grateful fervency. 

But that which others most admire, is the thought which 
fills his mind, 

The food for grave inquiring speech he everywhere doth find. 
Strange questions doth he ask of me, when we together walk- 
He scarcely thinks as children think, or talks as children talk. 

Nor car:s he much for childish sports, dotes not on bat or 

ball, . f1 

But looks on manhood's ways and works, and aptly mimics all. 
His little heart is busy still, and oftentimes perplext 
With thoughts about this world of ours, and thoughts about 

the next. 



452 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



He kneels at his dear mother's knee, she teacheth him to 
pray, 

And strange, and sweet, and solemn then, are the wcrds which 
he will say. 

Oh, should my gentle child be spared to manhood's years like 
me, 

A holier and a wiser man I trust that he will be. 
And when I look into his eyes, and stroke his thoughtful 
brow, 

I dare not think what I should feel, were I to lose him now. 

I have a son, a second son, a simple child of three; 
I'll not declare how bright and fair his little features be, 
How silver sweet those tones of his when he prattles on my 
knee : 

I do not think his light blue eye is, like his brother's keen, 
JSTor his brow so full of childish thought, as his hath ever been; 
But his little heart's a fountain pure, of kind and tender feel- 
ing, 

And his every look's a gleam of light, rich depths of love 
revealing. 

When he walks with me, the country folk, who pass us in 
the street, 

Will shout for joy, and bless my boy, he looks so mild and 
sweet ! 

A playfellow he is to all; and yet, with cheerful tone, 
Will sing his little song of love, when left to sport alone. 

His presence is, like sunshine, sent to gladden home and 
hearth, 

To comfort us in all our griefs, and sweeten all our mirth. 
Should he grow up to riper years, God grant his heart may 
prove 

As sweet a home for heavenly grace as now for earthly love; 



THE THREE SONS. 



45a 



And if beside his grave the tears our aching eyes must dim, 
God comfort us for all the love which we shall lose in him. 

£ have a son, a third sweet son; his age I cannot tell, 
For they reckon not by years and months where he is gone to 
dwell. 

To us, for fourteen anxious months, his infant smiles were given, 
And then he bade farewell to earth, and went to live in 
Heaven. 

I cannot tell what form his is, what looks he weareth now, 
Kor guess how bright a glory crowns his shining seraph brow. 

The thoughts which fill his sinless soul, the bliss which he 
doth feel, 

Are numbered with the secret things which God will not 
reveal. 

But I know (for God hath told me this) that he is now at rest, 
Where other blessed infants be, on their Saviour's loving 
breast. 

I know his spirit feels no more this weary load of flesh, 
But his sleep is blessed with endless dreams of joy for ever 
fresh. 

I know the angels fold him close beneath their glittering wings, 
And soothe him with a song that breathes of Heaven's divinest 
things. 

I know that we shall meet our babe (his mother dear and I), 
Where God for aye shall wipe away all tears from every eye. 
Whate'er befalls his brethren twain, his bliss can never cease; 
Their lot may here be grief and fear, but his is certain peace. 

It maybe that the tempter's wiles their souls from bliss may 
sever; 

But, if our own poor faith fail not, he must be ours for ever. 



454 WORDS OF COMFORT. 

When we think of what our darling is, and what we still 
must be; 

When we muse on that world's perfect bliss, and this world's 
misery; 

When we groan beneath this load of sin, and feel this grief 
and pain, — 

Oh! we'd rather lose our other two, than have him here 
again. * 



AJsGEL chaelie. 

Mrs. Emily C. Judso^. 

He came — a beauteous vision — 

Then vanished from my sight, 
His wing one moment cleaving 

The blackness of the night; 
My glad ear caught its rustle, 

Then sweeping by, he stole 
The dewdrop that his coming 

Had cherished in my soul. 

Oh, he had been my solace 

When grief my spirits swayed, 
And on his fragile being 

Had tender hopes been stayed; 
Where thought, where feeling lingered 

His form was sure to glide, 
And in the lone night watches 

'Twas ever by my side. 

He came; but as the blossom 

Its petals closes up, 
And hides them from the tempest, 

Within its sheltering cup — 



* Poems by John Moultrie. London : Pickering. 



ANGEL CHARLIE. 



So He his spirit gathered 

Back to his frightened breast, 

And passed from earth's grim threshold, 
To be the Saviour's guest. 

My boy! ah, me! the sweetness— 

The anguish of that word! — 
My boy! when in strange night dreams, 

My slumbering soul is stirred; 
When music floats around me, 

When soft lips touch my brow, 
And whisper gentle greetings, 

Oh, tell me, is it thou? 

I know, by one sweet token, 

My Charlie is not dead; 
One golden clue he left me, 

As on his track he sped; 
Were he some gem or blossom, 

But fashioned for to-day, 
My love would slowly perish 

With his dissolving clay. 

Oh, by this deathless yearning, 

Which is not idly given; 
By the delicious nearness 

My spirit feels to heaven; 
By dreams that throng my night sleep, 

By visions of the day, 
By whispers when I'm erring, 

By promptings when I pray; — 

I know this life so cherished, 
Which sprang beneath my heart, 

Which formed of my own being 
So beautiful a part; 



456 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



This precious, winsome creature, 
My unfledged, voiceless dove, 

Lifts now a seraph's pinion, 
And warbles lays of love. 

Oh, I would not recall thee, 

My glorious angel-boy! 
Thou needest not my bosom, 

Bare bird of light and joy! 
Here dash I down the tear-drops, 

Still gathering in my eyes; 
Blest — oh! how blest! — in adding 

A seraph to the skies ! * 



THE LAMBS SAFELY FOLDED. t 

I loved them so, 
That when the Elder Shepherd of the fold, 
Came, covered with the storm, and pale and cold, 
And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold, 

I bade Him go. 

He claimed the pet; 
A little fondling thing, that to my breast 
Clung always, either in quiet or unrest; 
I thought of all my lambs I loved him best. 

And yet — and yet — 

I laid him down, 
In those white shrouded arms, with bitter tears; 
For some voice told me that, in after years, 
He should know nought of passion, grief, or fears, 

As I had known. 

* Life of Mrs Emily C. Judson, wife of the Rev. Dr. Judson. Missionary. 
Edinburgh : T. Nelson & Sons. 

f We regret that we cannot ascertain the name of the author of this 
beautiful piece. 



THE IAMBS SAFELY FOLDED. 



4S 



And yet again 
That Elder Shepherd came; my heart grew faint- 
He claim' d another lamb, with sadder plaint. 
Another ! She, who, gentle as a saint, 

Ne'er gave me pain. 

Aghast I turned away; 
There sat she, lovely as an angel's dream, 
Her golden locks with sunlight all agleam, 
Her holy eyes with heaven in their beam; 

I knelt to pray: 

"Is it Thy will? 
My Father, say, must this pet lamb be given? 
0, thou hast many such, dear Lord, in heaven! 55 
And a soft voice said, "Nobly hast thou striven; 

But— peace, be still ! " 

Oh, how I wept ! 
And clasped her to my bosom, with a wild 
And yeanling love— my lamb, my pleasant child: 
Her, too, I gave— the little angel smiled, 

And slept ! 

"Go! go!" I cried: 
Tor, once again, that Shepherd laid His hand 
Upon the noblest of our household band: 
Like a pale spectre, there He took His stand, 

Close to his side. 

And yet how wondrous sweet 
The look with which He heard my passionate cry— 
" Touch not my lamb— for him 0 let me die ! " 
" A little while," he said, with smile and sigh, 

"Again to meet." 
G 2 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Hopeless I fell; 
And when I rose, the light had burned so low, 
So faint, I could not see my darling go. 
He had not bidden me farewell; but, ah ! 

I felt farewell — 

More deeply far 
Than if my arms had compass'd that slight frame; 
Though could I but have heard him breathe my name 
"Dear mother ! "—but in heaven 'twill be the same; 

There burns my star ! 

He will not take 
Another lamb, I thought; for only one 
Of the dear fold is spared to be my sun, 
My guide, my mourner when this life is done; 

My heart would break. 

0, with what thrill 
I heard Him enter; but I did not know 
(For it was dark) that he had robbed me so; 
The idol of my soul — he could not go — 

0, heart be still ! 

Came morning: can I tell 
How this poor frame its sorrowful tenant kept ? 
For waking tears were mine; I, sleeping, wept, 
And days, months, years, that weary vigil kept. 

Alas, "Farewell." 

How often it is said ! 
I sit and think, and wonder, too, sometime, 
How it will seem, when, in that happier clime, 
It never will ring out like funeral chime 

Over the dead. 



A PARENT S GEIEF. 



No tears ! no tears ! 
TTill there a day come that I shall not weep ? 
For I bedew my pillow in my sleep. 
Yes, yes, thank God, no grief that clime shall ke< 

No weary years. 

Ay, it is well ! 
AVell with my lambs, and with their earthly guid< 
There, pleasant rivers wander they beside, 
Or strike sweet harps upon its silver tide — 

Ay, "It is well !" 

Through the dreary day 
They often come from glorious light to me; 
I cannot feel their touch 5 their faces see, 
Yet, my soul whispers, they do come to me; 

Heaven is not far away ! 



A PARENT'S GRIEF. 

John Pierpoxt. 

I cannot make him dead! 

His fair sunshiny head 
Is ever bounding round my study chair; 

Yet, when my eyes, now dim 

With tears, I turn to him, 
The vision vanishes — he is not there! 

I walk my parlour floor, 

And, through the open door, 
I hear a footfall on the chamber stair; 

I'm stepping toward the hall 

To give the boy a call; 
And then bethink me that— he is not there! 



160 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



I thread the crowded street, 

A satchell'd lad I meet, 
With the same beaming eyes and coloured hairj 

And as he's running by, 

Follow him with my eye, 
Scarcely believing that — he is not there. 

I know his face is hid 

Under the coffin lid; 
Closed are his eyes; cold is his forehead fair; 

My hand that marble felt; 

O'e: it in prayer I knelt; 
Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there. 

I cannot make him dead! 

When passing by -the bed, 
So long watched over with parental care, 

My spirit and my eye 

Seek it inquiringly, 
Before the thought comes that — he is not there! 

When at the cool, grey break 

Of day, from sleep I wake, 
With my first breathing of the morning air, 

My so 1 goes up, with joy, 

To Him who gave my boy, 
Then comes the sad thought that — he is not there I 

When at the day's calm close, 

Before we seek repose, 
I'm, with his mother, offering up our prayer, 

Or evening anthems tuning, 

In spirit I'm communing 
With our boy's spirit, though— he is not there! 



a father's dee am. 



461 



Not there!— Where, then, is he? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he used to wear. 

The grave, that now doth press 

Upon that cast-off dress, 
Is b:it his wardrobe locked;— he is not there! 

He lives! — In all the past 

He lives; nor, to the last, 
Of seeing him again will I despair. 

In dreams I see him now; 

And, on his angel brow, 
I see it written, " Thou shalt see me there!" 

Yes, we all live to God! 

Father! Thy chastening rod 
So help us, Thine afflicted ones, to bear. 

That, in the spirit -land, 

Meeting at Thy right hand, 
'Twill be our heaven to find that -Thou art there! 



A FATHER'S DREAM. 

Rev. Thomas Rawson Taylor, Bradford. 
(Author of "Heaven is My Home.") 

There was a lovely little flower 

I fondly hoped to rear; 
I saw it at the matin hour, 

It was expanding here. 
I looked again; my flower was gone; 

I knew it must be dead; 
And put a robe of sackcloth, on, 

Strewed ashes on my head; 
And sat me down, to wail and weep 

That thus my flower had died; 



462 



WOKDS OF COMFORT. 



And in my sorrow fell asleep; — 

There stood One by my side, 
Who told me of my lovely flower, 

And showed me where it grew, 
Beyond the scorching summer's power, 

Where winter never blew; 
And told me He had taken it 

To that more genial sphere, 
Because, in truth, it was not fit 

That it should wither here; 
And said it was too sweet a thing 

To bloom on earth for me, 
For waters from a purer spring 

Around its root must be; 
And dews which always fall in heaven, 

But never here below, 
Must wash its leaves, both morn and even r 

Or it would never grow; 
And it must have a tenderer care 

And truer love than mine — 
He pointed unto heaven — "and there," 

He said, " A hand divine 
Shall tend and train thy flower for thee, 

Till it is fully grown; 
Then come to heaven, and it shall be 

Eternally thine own !" 

And then He went away. My heart 

Was calm and reconciled; 
But gently yearning to depart, 

And join my blessed child! 
And thinking of my pleasant dream, 

In happy sleep I sung; 
Both joy and grief were in my theme, 

And both were on my tongue. 



THE CHILD'S FANCY. 



It was not quite a gloomy strain, 

Nor quite a merry glee; 
But a sweet mingling of the twain, 

In one deep melody. 
I woke in tears, which soon were dry, 

And knelt me down to pray; 
And then I laid my ashes by, 

And flung my weeds away. 



THE CHILD'S FANCY. 
H. D. Munson. 

Oh, I long to lie, dear mother, 

On the cool and fragrant grass, 
With the calm blue sky above my head, 

And the shadowy clouds that pass; 
And I want the bright, bright sunshine 

All round about my bed; 
I'll close my eyes, and God will think 

Your little boy is dead. 

Then Christ will send an angel 

To take me up to Him, 
He will bear me slow and steadily 

Far through the ether dim. 
He will gently, gently lay me 

Close by the Saviour's side; 
And when I'm sure that I'm in heaven, 

My eyes I'll open wide. 

And I'll look among the angels 
Who stand around the throne, 

Till I find my sister Mary; 
For I know she must be one. 



4G4 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And when I find her, mother, 

We'll go away alone; 
I'll tell her how we've mourn'd for her, 

All the while that she's been gone. 

Oh, I shall be delighted 

To hear her speak again: 
Though I know she'll not return to us — 

To ask her would be vain. 
So I'll put my arms around her, 

And look into her eyes, 
And remember all I say to her, 

And all her sweet replies. 

And then I'll ask the angel 

To take me back to you. 
He will bear me slow and steadily 

Down through the ether blue; 
And you'll only think, dear mother, 

That I've been out to play, 
And have gone to sleep beneath the tree, 

This &ultry summer day. 



LITTLE FLORENCE. 
David Raeside, Saltcoats. 
Little Florence, fond and free, 
Playing by the apple-tree, 
Laughing on her mother's knee — 

Sunbeams slanting on her hair, 
Flowing wreaths of flowrets fair 
Dangling from her in the air. 

Fast and faster go her feet 

Where the grass and sunshine meet: 

Joyful Florence! — Life is sweet. 



LITTLE FLORENCE. 



465' 



Little Florence, mild and weak, 
Trouble looking from her cheek, 
Scarcely can she move or speak— 

Looks out to the falling rain- 
All a mother's cares are vain; 
Pillows may not ease her pain. 

Gladness has a flitting will- 
How came she to taste of ill? 
Joy is evanescent still. 

Little Florence, weak and icorn, 
Like a faint star left forlorn, 
Trembling on the point of morn. 

Angel forms are in the air, 
Flitting on the golden stair, 
Bearing up a mother's prayer. 

Little Florence, cold and dead, 
Green grass growing overhead, 
Waiting for thy wonted tread — 

Lying by the apple-tree — 
Sunshine comes to look for thee, 
Comes to crown thy wonted glee. 

And thy mother leaves her home, 
Comes here, where she used to come, 
Silent Florence! Death is dumb. 

Little Florence, clothed in -white, 
Looking back upon the night, 
Standing in the shadeless light— 

"Walking up the golden street, 
Sitting at the Saviour's feet, 
Where the pure and holy meet. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Shadows stood on yonder shore, 
Waiting for thee heretofore, 
They shall wait for thee no more. 

Thou didst pass them o'er the flood, 
Left them standing where they stood — 
Angel Florence! God is good. * 



WEEP NOT FOE HER! 

" Delta," in Blackwood's Magazine, written in 1850. 
Weep not for her!— Oh she was far too fair, 

Too pure to dwell on this guilt-tainted earth! 
The sinless glory, and the golden air 

Of Zion, seemed to claim her from her birth 

A spirit wandering from its native zone: 
Which, soon discov'ring, took her for its own: 
Weep not for her ! 

Weep not for her! — Her span was like the sky; 

Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and bright; 
Like flowers that know not what it is to die! 

Like long-link'd shadeless months of Polar light; 
Like music floating o'er a waveless lake, 
While Echo answers from the flowery brake, 
Weep not for her! 

Weep not for her! — She died in early youth, 
Ere hope had lost its rich romantic hues; 
When human bosoms seem'd the homes of truth. 

And earth still gleam'd with beauty's radiant dews,, 
Her summer-prime waned not to days that freeze; 
Her wine of life was run not to the lees; 

Weep not for her! 
* Chambers's Journal, February, 1861. 



WEEP NOT FOR HER. 



40? 



Weep not for her!— By fleet or slow decay, 
It never griev'd her bosom's core to mark 

The playmates of her childhood wane away, 

Her prospects wither, or her hopes grow dark :— 

Translated by her God, with spirits shriven, 

She passed as 'twere in smiles from earth to Heaven: 
Weep not for her! 

Weep not for her!— It was not hers to feel 
The miseries that corrode amassing years, 

'Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel, 
To wander sad down Age's vale of tears, 

As whirl the wither'd leaves from Friendship's tree, 

And on earth's wintry world alone to be: 
Weep not for her! 

Weep not for her!— She is an angel now, 

And treads the sapphire floors of Paradise,— 

All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow, 
Sin, sorrow, suffering, banished from her eyes; 

Victorious over death, to her appear 

The vista'd joys of Heaven's eternal year: 
Weep not for her! 

Weep not for her!— Her memory is the shrine 
Of pleasing thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers, 

Calm as on windless eve the sun's decline, 
Sweet as the song of birds among the bowers, 

Rich as a rainbow with its hues of light, 

Pure as the moonshine of an autumn night: 
Weep not for her! 

Weep not for her! — There is no cause for woe; 

But rather nerve the spirit, that it walk 
Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below, 

And from earth's low defilements keep thee back : 
So, when a few fleet severing years have flown, 
She'll meet thee at Heaven's gate— and lead thee on? 

Weep not for her! 



468 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



A STAR OF COMFORT. 

Jaaies Edmeston, Homertojst, LoNDoy. 
Full many a flower is scattered by the breeze, 
And many a blossom shaken from the trees, 
And many a morning beam in tempest flies, 
And many a dew-drop shines awhile and dies; 
But oftener, far, the dream that fancy weaves 
Of futnre joy and happiness, deceives. 
And thou, pale mourner o'er an infant bier, 
Brighten thy cheek, and dry the trickling tear; 
This came, though veiled in darkness, from above, 
A dispensation of eternal love! 
He who perceived the dangerous control 
The heart-twined spell was gaining on thy soul, 
Snatched from thine arms the treacherous decoy, 
To give thee brighter hope and purer joy. 
Oh, see how soon the flowers of life decay- 
How soon terrestrial pleasures fade away! 
This star of comfort, for a moment given, 
Just rose on Earth, then set, to rise in Heaven. 
Yet mourn not, as of hope bereft, its doom, 
Xor water with thy tears its early tomb; 
Redeemed by God from sin, released from pain, 
Its life were punishment— its death is gain!— 
Torn back thine eye along the path of life, 
View thine own grief, and weariness, and strife; 
And say, if that which tempts thee to repine 
Be not a happier lot, by far, than thine ? 
If death, in infancy, had laid thee low, 
Thou had' st escaped from pain, and sin, and woe; 
The years thy soul the path of sorrow trod, 
Had all been spent in converse with thy God; 
And thou had"st shone in yonder cloudless sphere, 
A seraph there, and not a pilgrim here. 



A STAR OF C03IFOET. 



469 



O! it is sweet to die! — to part from Earth — 

And win all Heaven for things of little worth. 

Then sure thou would' st not, if thou could'st, awake 

The little slumberer, for its mother's sake. 

It is when those we love in death depart, 

That Earth has slightest hold upon the heart. 

Hath not bereavement higher wishes taught, 

And purified from earth thine earth-born thought? 

I know it hath. Hope then appears more dear, 

And heaven's bright realms shine brightest through a tear. 

Though it be hard to bid thy heart divide, 

And lay the gem of all thy love aside, 

Eaith tells thee, and it tells thee not in vain, 

That thou shalt meet thine infant yet again. 

On seraph wings the new-born spirit flies, 

To brighter regions and serener skies; 

And, ere thou art aware, the day may be 

When to those skies thy babe shall welcome thee. 

While yet on Earth thine ever-circling arms 

Held it securest from surrounding harms; 

Yet even there, disease could aim its dart, 

Chill the warm cheek, and stop the fluttering heart; 

And many a fruitless tear-drop thou hast paid, 

To view the sickness that thou could'st not aid. 

No ill can reach it now — it rests above, 

Safe in the bosom of celestial love; 

Its short, but yet tempestuous way is o'er, 

And tears shall trickle down its cheeks no more. 

Then far be grief !— Faith looks beyond the tomb, 

And Heaven's bright portals sparkle through the gloom 

If bitter thoughts and tears in Heaven could be, 

It is thine infant that should weep for thee! 



470 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE BROKEN CIRCLE. 

James Edmeston. 

Ah, I have loved— 
How dearly loved— that fair and faded form, 
Whose loss I mourn. She lived within my soul; 
Her voice melodious cheer'd me, and her smile 
Seem'd gentle sunshine in a cloudy world. 

Well! thou art in a happier home than mine, 
Though peace and sweet affection mingled there; 
And an Almighty Parent shields thee now, 
With higher conservance than I could give. 

Ah! may not Fancy picture that my child, 
Newly arrived in Heaven, the seraph hands 
Of those who loved me once, and love me still, 
And who have long dwelt in those happy plains, 
May welcome her, and lead her to the Fount 
Of J oy; teaching the new inhabitant 
What they have learn'd, fondly and tenderly 
(For that the child was mine), instructing her 
In love celestial? Yes, methinks it may. 



Sickness may enter, and the young bloom fade 
From the loved cheek, spring after spring be dried, 
And the pierced breast bleed many times and deep. 

And should I wish thee this? Should I recall 
Thy gentle spirit to a world of care, 
To walk some years of mortal life with me, 
Because thou wast a solace to my life, 
And, when we part, that thou shouldst weep for me, 
And feel the rending which I suffer now ? 
? Twere cruel selfishness, unlike to Love ! 



THE BROKEN CIRCLE. 



471 



Ah, I would pray to feel that thou, my child, 
Mine in time past, are still mine evermore; 
I cannot lose thee, though cold Death between 
Roll his dark silent river; on that shore, 
I shall rejoin and clasp thee yet again, 
Dear to my soul as ever thou wast here. 

Yet let me pause, and think— yes, let me think, 
These faint enjoyments of a twilight world 
Remain my portion; while the noon of heaven 
Sheds pure, unmingled brilliance over thine; 
Oh, how the spirit pants to know the full 
Of this, and, like a bird but newly caught, 
Flutters, and beats her wings against the cage, 
Sees the bright sun, and struggles to be free. 

Why should the insect, crawling o'er the leaf, 
Lament her sister, whom chrysaline change 
Hath deck'd with beauteous wings, and, seraph-like, 
Ranges through summer fields, and nectar'd cups 
Of flowers unnumber'd? Then let me rather, 
Smiling amidst my tears, serenely say— 
Sweet child, I might desire to go to thee, 
But would not, frail and erring though I am, 
Recall thee to this lower world again. 

I would possess unhesitating faith, 
Which views, with certain and undoubting sight, 

Distant, invisible realities. 

I would perceive her form amidst the throng 

Of spirits glorified in yonder world; 

This were a sovereign cordial to the heart, 

This would make sighs congratulating smiles. 

Thou who, ascending from the broken tomb, 

Brought'st life and immortality to man; 

O, grant me this, — grant faith, unclouded faith, 

And light my darken'd soul with heavenly rays! 

4 'Lord Jesus, come! come quickly"— This resounds 



472 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



From every waiting heart; "Come, quickly come!'' 
The slumbering dust appears to echo back; 
For Thee creation waits, waits for Thy power 
To bring to earth the new Jerusalem.* 



A CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S DIRGE. 
Rev. Dr. Ralph Ward law, Glasgow. 
[The following lines were written for a Christian mother 
on the death of her child.] 

There was the parting sigh ! 

With that the spirit fled, 
And wing'd its flight on high, 

.And left the body dead; 
No prayers, no tears its flight could stay, 
'Twas Jesus called the soul away. 

Oh how shall I complain 

Of Him who rules above ? 
Who sends no needless pain, 

Who always smites in love, 
Who looks in tenderest pity down, 

Even when He seems to wear a frown. 

The eye of Jesus wept; 

It dropt a holy tear, 
When Mary's brother slept, 

A friend to Jesus dear : — 
Delightful thought!— that blessed eye 
Still beams with kindness in the sky! 

I know my babe is blest, 

Her bliss by Jesus given; 
She's early gone to rest, 

She's found an early heaven — 
The sigh that closed her eyes on earth — 
The moment of her happier birth! 

* Sacred Poetry. By James Edmeston. London : James Nisbet & Co. 



A CHRISTIAN MOTHER'S DIRGE. 



But ah! my spirits fail; 

I feel a pang untold; 
Those ruby lips so pale — 

That blushing cheek so cold! 
And dim those eyes of " dewy light," 
That smiled and glanced so sweetly bright. 

To lay that lovely form, 

So lovely e'en in death, 
Food for corruption's worm, 

The mouldering earth beneath* 
Oh worse to me than twice to part, 
Than second death-stroke to my heart! 

As summer flower she grew. 

Expanding to the morn — 
All gemm'd with sparkling dew, 

A flower without a thorn; 
A mother's sweet and lovely flower, 
Sweeter and lovelier every hour. 

But ah! my morning bloom 

Scarce felt the warming ray; 
An unexpected gloom 

Obscured the rising day: 
A dreary, cold and withering blast, 
Low on the ground its beauty cast. 

Its glist'ning leaves are shed, 
That spread so fresh and fair, 

The balmy fragrance fled, 
That scented all the air, 

And lowly laid its lifeless form, 

The gentle victim of the storm. 
H2 



474 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



But why in anguish weep ? 

Hope beams upon my view; 
'Tis but a winter's sleep, 

My flower shall spring anew! 
Each darling flower on earth that sleeps, 
O'er which fond memory hangs and weeps, 

All to new life shall rise, 

In heavenly beauty bright, 
Shall charm my ravish'd eyes, 

In tints of rainbow light; 
Shall bloom unfading in the skies, 
And drink the dews of paradise! 

0 this is blest relief! 

My fainting heart it cheers; 
It cools my burning grief, 

And sweetens all my tears; 
These eyes shall see my darling then, 
Nor shed a parting tear again ! 

And while I feel at heart, 
The blank of comforts gone, 

1 only mourn a part — 

I am not left alone; — 
Though nipt some buds of opening joy, 
How many still my thanks employ ! 

And thou, my second heart, 

Lov'd partner of my grief, 
Heaven bids not thee depart, 

Of earthly joys the chief! 
A favoured wife and mother still, 
Let grateful praise my bosom fill. * 

* The Rev. Dr. W. L. Alexander, Edinburgh, in his Memoir of the Rev. 
Dr. Wardlaw, refers in the following terms to this soothing piece, which 
was written in 1811 : "It has been extensively circulated, and has minis- 
tered consolation to many a bereaved and sorrowing fceart." 



THE CHILD AND THE DEW-DROPS. 



475 



THE CHILD AND THE DEW-DROPS. 

John Critchley Prince, Lancashire. 
" Oh! dearest mother, tell me, pray, 

"Why are the dew-drops gone so soon? 
Could they not stay till close of day 
To sparkle on the flowery spray, 

Or on the fields till noon?" 

The mother gazed upon her boy, 

Earnest with thought beyond his years, 
And felt a sharp and sad annoy, 
That meddled with her deepest joy; 
But she restrained her tears. 

44 My child x 'tis said such beauteous things, 
Too often loved with vain excess, 

Are swept away by angel wings, 

Before contamination clings 
To their frail loveliness. 

Behold yon rainbow, brightening yet! 

To which all mingled hues are given; 
There are thy dew-drops, grandly set 
In a resplendent coronet 

Upon the brow of heaven. 

ZSTo stain of earth can reach them there — 
Woven with sunbeams there they shine, 

A transient vision of the air, 

But yet a symbol, pure and fair, 
Of love and peace divine." 

The boy gazed upward into space, 

With eager and inquiring eyes, 
Whilst o'er his sweet and thoughtful face 
Came a faint glory, and a grace 

Transmitted from the skies. 



476 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Ere the last odorous sigh of May, 

That child lay down beneath the sod! 
Like dew his young soul passed away, 
To mingle with the brighter day 
That veils the throne of God, 

Mother! thy fond, foreboding heart 
Truly foretold thy loss and pain; 

But thou didst choose the patient part 

Of resignation to the smart, 
And owned thy loss his gain. 



THE DYING INFANT. 

Rev. Richard Cecil. 

Cease here longer to detain me, 
Fondest mother, drowned in woe. 

Now thy kind caresses pain me: 
Morn advances — let me go. 

See yon orient streak appearing, 

Harbinger of endless day: 
Hark! a voice the darkness cheering, 

Calls my new-born soul away. 

Lately launched, a trembling stranger, 
On the world's wild, boisterous flood, 

Pierced with sorrows, tossed with danger, 
Gladly I return to God. 

Now my cries shall cease to grieve thee, 
Now my trembling heart finds rest; 

Kinder arms than t hin e receive me, 
Softer pillow than thy breast. 



melville's child and the two doves. 477 



Weep not o'er those eyes that languish, 
Upward turning to their home; 

Eaptured, they'll forget all anguish, 
While they wait to see thee come. 

There, my mother, pleasures centre; 

Weeping, parting, care, or woe 
Ne'er our Father's house shall enter: 

Morn advances— let me go. 

As through this calm, this holy dawning, 
Silent glides my parting breath, 

To an everlasting morning, 
Gently close my eyes in death. 

Blessings endless, richest blessings, 
Pour their streams upon thine heart, 

(Though no language yet possessing) 
Breathes my spirit ere we part. 

Yet to leave thee sorrowing rends me, 
Though again His voice I hear: 

Rise! may every grace attend thee; 
Rise, and seek to meet me there! 



MELVILLE'S CHILD AND THE TWO DOVES. 
Mrs. A. Stuart Monteith. 
One time my soul was pierced as with a sword, 

Contending still with men untaught and wild; 
When He who to the prophet lent his gourd, 

Gave me the solace of a pleasant child. 

A summer gift my precious flower was given; 

A very sunny fragrance was its life; 
Its clear eye soothed me as the blue of heaven, 

When home I turned— a weary man of strife. 



478 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



With unformed laughter— musically sweet- 
How soon the wakening babe would meet my kiss; 

With outstretched arms its care-wrought father greet 
Oh! in the desert, what a spring was this! 

A few short months it blossomed near my heart— 
A few short months— else toilsome all, and sad; 

But that home -solace nerved me for my part, 
And of the babe I was exceeding glad. 

Alas! my pretty bud, scarce formed, was dying— 
(The prophet's gourd— it withered in a nightl) 

And He who gave me all— my heart's pulse trying— 
Took gently home the child of my delight. 

Not rudely culled— not suddenly it perished; 

But gradual, faded from our love away: 
As if still, secret dews, its life that cherished, 

Were drop by drop withheld, and day by day. 

My blessed Master saved me from repining; 

So tenderly He sued me for His own: 
So beautiful He made my babe's declining; 

Its dying blessed me as its birth had done. 

And daily to my board at noon and even, 
Our fading flower I bade his mother bring; 

That we might commune of our rest in heaven, 
Gazing the while on death without its sting! 

And of the ransom for that baby paid— 
So very sweet at times our converse seemed, 

That the sure truth of grief a gladness made— 
Our little lamb, by God's own Lamb redeemed! 



melville's child and the two doves. 479 



There were two milk-white doves my wife had nourished, 
And I too loved — erewhile at times to stand, 

Marking how each the other fondly cherished — 
And fed them from my baby's dimpled hand. 

So tame they grew, that to his cradle flying, 
Full oft they cooed him to his noon-tide rest; 

And to the murmurs of his sleep replying, 
Crept gently in, and nestled in his breast. 

'Twas a fair sight— the snow-pale infant sleeping, 
So fondly guardianed by those creatures mild; 

Watch o'er his closed eyes, their bright eyes keeping- 
Wondrous the love betwixt the birds and child! 

Still as he sickened, seemed the doves too dwining— 
Forsook their food, and loathed their pretty play; 

And on the day he died, with sad note pining, 
One gentle bird would not be frayed away. 

His mother found it when she rose, sad-hearted, 

At early dawn, with sense of nearing ill; 
And when, at last, the little spirit parted, 

The dove died too, as if of its heart's chill! 

The other flew to meet my sad home-riding, 
As with a human sorrow in its coo, 

To my dead child, and its dead mate then guiding- 
Most pitifully plained— and parted too! 

'Twas my first "hansel" and "propine" to heaven! 

And as I laid my darling 'neath the sod, 
Precious His Comforts! once an infant given, 

And offered with two turtle doves to God! * 

* Lays of the Kirk and Covenant. By Mrs. A. Stuart Monteith. The 
incident referred to is the death of a child of James Melville, a principal 
promoter of the Reformation in Scotland. 



480 



WOBJDS OF COMFORT. 



THE GARDEN ROSEBUD. 

Mrs. Haebiet Beechee, Stowe. 
In Memory of Annie, who died at Milan, June 6, I860. 
In the fair gardens of celestial peace, 

Walketh a Gardener in meekness clad; 
Fair are the flowers that wreath His dewy locks, 
And His mysterious eyes are sweet and sad. 

Fair are the silent foldings of His robes 
Falling with saintly calmness to His feet: 

And when He walks, each floweret to His will 
With living pulse of sweet accord doth beat. 

Every green leaf thrills to its tender heart,, 
In the mild summer radiance of His eye;— 

No fear of storm, or cold, or bitter frost, 

Shadows the flowerets when then- sun is nigh. 

And all our pleasant haunts of earthly love 
Are nurseries to those gardens of the air; 

And His far-darting eye, with starry beam, 
Watcheth the growing of His treasures there. 

We call them ours, o'erwept with selfish tears, 
O'erwatched with restless longings night and day; 

Forgetful of the high, mysterious right 

He holds to bear our cherished plants away. 

But when some sunny spot in those bright fields 
iSTeeds the fair presence of an added flower, 

Down sweeps a starry angel in the night;— 

At morn the rose has vanished from our bower. 

Where stood our tree, our flower, there is a grave! 

Blank, silent, vacant, but in worlds above- 
Like a new star outblossom'd in the skies— 

The angels hail an added flower of love. 



THE CROCUS. 

Dear friend, no more upon that lonely mound- 
Strewed with the red and yellow autumn leaf- 
Drop thou the tear, but raise the fainting eye 
Beyond the autumn mists of earthly grief. 

Thy garden rosebud bore within its breast 
Those mysteries of colour, warm and bright, 

That the bleak climate of this lower sphere 
Could never waken into form and light. 

Yes, the sweet Gardener has borne her hence— 
Nor must thou ask to take her thence away; 

Thou shalt behold her in some coming hour, 
Full-blossom'd in His fields of cloudless day! 



THE CROCUS. 

Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. 

Beneath the sunny autumn sky, 

With gold leaves dropping round, 
We sought, my little friend and I, 

The consecrated ground, 
Where calm beneath the cypress tree, 

O'ershadowed by sweet skies, 
Sleeps tranquilly that youthful form, 

Those blue, unclouded eyes. 

Around the soft green swelling mound 

We scooped the earth away, 
And buried deep the crocus bulbs 

Against a coming day. 
"These roots are dry, and brown, and sere, 

Why plant them here ?" he said, 
* 6 To leave them all the winter long 

So desolate and dead ?" 



482 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



' 1 Dear child, within each sere dead form 

There sleeps a living flower; 
And angel -like it shall arise 

In spring's returning hour." 
Ah, deeper down — cold, dark and chill, 

We buried our heart's flower; 
But angel-like shall he arise 

In spring's immortal hour. 

In blue and yellow from its grave 

Springs up the crocus fair, 
And God shall raise those bright blue eyes. 

Those sunny waves of hair. 
Not for a fading summer's morn, 

^ot for a fleeting hour, 
But for an endless age of bliss, 

Shall rise our heart's dear flower. 



EVA. 

John G. Whittier. 

Dry thy tears for holy Eva! 
With the blessed angels leave her; 
Of the form so soft and fair 
Give to earth the tender care. 

In the better home of Eva 
Let the shining ones receive her, 
With the welcome voiced psalm, 
Harp of gold and waving palm! 

All is light and peace with Eva; 
There the darkness cometh never; 
Tears are wiped and fetters fall, 
And the Lord is all in all. 



" I DAKE NOT WEEP XOR MURMUR." 



Weep no more for happy Eva, 
Wrong and sin no more shall grieve her; 
Care, and pain, and weariness 
Lost in love so measureless. 

Gentle Eva, loving Eva, 
Child confessor, true believer, 
Listen at the Master's knee, 
" Suffer such to come to mei" 

0 for faith like thee, sweet Eva, 
Lighting all the solemn river, 
And the blessings of the poor 
Wafting to the heavenly shore! 



"I DAEE NOT WEEP NOR MURMUR." 

Translated from a mediaeval hymn.] 

Child, by God's sweet mercy given 

To thy mother and to me, 
Entering this world of sorrows 

By His grace so fair to see; 
Fair as some sweet flower in summer, 

Till death's hand on thee was laid, 
Scorch'd the beauty from my flower. 

Made the tender petals fade. 
Yet I dare not weep nor murmur, 

Eor I know the King of kings 
Leads thee to His marriage-chamber, 

To the glorious bridal brings. 

Nature fain would have me weeping; 

Love asserts her mournful right; 
But I answer, they have brought thee 

To the happy world of light. 



484 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



And I fear that my lamentings, 

As I speak thy cherish'd name, 
Desecrate the Royal dwelling; — 

Fear to meet deserved blame, 
If I press with tears of anguish 

Into the abode of Joy; 
Therefore will I, meekly bowing, 

Offer thee to God, my boy. » 

Yet thy voice, thy childish singing, 

Soundeth ever in my ears; 
And I listen, and remember, 

Till mine eyes will gather tears, 
Thinking of thy pretty prattlings, 

And thy childish words of love; 
But when I begin to murmur, 

Then my spirit looks above; 
Listens to the songs of spirits — 

Listens, longing, wondering, 
To the ceaseless glad hosannas 

Angels at thy bridal sing. 



THE GENTLE SHEPHERD AND THE LAMB. 

Meinhold. 

Gentle Shepherd, Thou hast still'd 
Now Thy little iamb's long weeping; 

Ah how peaceful, pale, and mild, 
In its narrow bed 'tis sleeping, 

And no sigh of anguish sore 

Heaves that little bosom more. 

In this world of care and pain, 

Lord, Thou wouldst no longer leave it; 



WHERE IS MY CHILD I 



485 



To the sunny heavenly plain 

Dost Thou now with joy receive it; 
Clothed in robes of spotless white, 
Now it dwells with Thee in light. 

Ah, Lord Jesus ! grant that we 
Where it lives may soon be living; 

And the lovely pastures see 

That its heavenly food are giving; 

Then the gain of death we prove, 

Though Thou take what most we love. * 



WHERE IS MY CHILD? 

M. G. S., in Christian Treasury. 

Is she not here ? In fancy's dream I see 
The bounding form, so full of childish glee; 
Feel her sweet kiss, and hear her whisper low, 
Then from my dream awake with bitter woe, 
Knowing the grave has hidden from my eyes 
My earthly prize. 

She is not here: oh, it was hard to part! 
Her baby form was twined around my heart. 
How much I loved to hear that gentle voice! 
Its simple tones oft made my heart rejoice; 
Now that sweet infant tongue has joined to raise 
Her Saviour's praise. 

From sin and sorrow she has passed away, 
On angels' wings, to join their perfect lay: 
Earth could no longer hold so fair a flower; 
And now, though storms may beat and tempests lower, 
She heeds them not; safe on her Saviour's breast 
She is at rest. 

* Lyra Germanica. London : Longman, Green & Co. 



486 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



She was " the evening star " I thought would shine 
Upon my path, as I, with years' decline, 
Thought I should watch its lustre softer glow, 
Cheering my weary pilgrimage below; 
But God has set my bright and gentle star 
In heaven afar. 

Borne on faith's wings, I'll pass the bounds of time, 
And watch my beauteous star in glory shine; 
No sorrow dims its rays, its brightness fair 
Woos me to fix my best affections there; 
It weans my heart from earth, and lifts mine eyes 
More to the skies. 

She was my flower: the sad pathway of life, 
So full, to sinful man, of care and strife, 
Was by her presence stripped of many a thorn, 
Making my trials easier to be borne. 
My flower is now in realms of holy light, 
In glory bright. 

Yes, she is there; for, while on earth in pain, 
She loved supremely her Redeemer's name; 
Now she is with Him, near His throne she stands, 
Eests in His arms, one of His folded lambs. 
Soon shall we meet before that glorious throne, 
My little one. 

Yes, there's my Child; I see, with eye of faith, 
Her happy spirit free from sin and death; 
She is a jewel on her Saviour's brow; 
Low at His feet her crown she loves to throw; 
While He, enthroned in love and mercy mild, 
Smiles on my child. 



JESUS IN THE STORM. 



487 



Shall I then grieve my precious one is where 
She doth the golden crown and white robe wear ? 
No; rather would I joy that she is free, 
And wait my Father's summons patiently, 
To join with her the heavenly blessed throng, 
In glorious song. 



JESUS EN THE STORM. 
Rev. De. Alex. Wallace, Glasgow. 

Sad, sad thoughts and weary 
Had preyed upon my mind; 

A darkness deep and dreary 
Had made me sick and blind. 

But now upon the ocean 
Of troubled thoughts I see 

My Saviour's graceful motion- 
He cometh unto me. 

The winds and waves He stilleth, 

And all is calm again; 
My soul with light He filleth, 

Like sunshine after rain. 

The eye of faith is beaming 
With joy sent from above; 

The rainbow cloud is streaming, 
The pledge of constant love. 

My loosened tongue adoreth 
The greatness of His might; 

His smile alone restoreth 
The darken' d soul to light. 



488 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THE DYING MOTHER AND HER CHILD 

Robert Pollok. 
She made a sign 
To bring her babe — 'twas brought, and by her placed. 
She looked upon its face, that neither smiled 
Nor wept, nor knew who gazed upon't; and laid 
Her hand upon its little breast, and sought 
For it, with look that seemed to penetrate 
The heavens, unutterable blessings, such 
As God to dying parents only granted, 
For infants left behind them in the world. 
" God keep my child! " we heard her say, and heard 
No more. The Angel of the Covenant 
Was come, and, faithful to His promise, stood, 
Prepared to walk with her through death's dark vale. * 



A FLOWER TRANSPLANTED. 

Robert Burns. 
Here lies a rose, a budding rose, 

Blasted before its bloom; 
Whose innocence did sweets disclose 

Beyond that flower's perfume. 

To those who for her loss are griev'd 
This consolation's given — 

She's from a world of woe reliev'd, 
And blooms a rose in Heaven. 



My child, thou art gone to the home of thy rest, 

Where suffering no longer can harm ye, 
Where the songs of the good, where the hymns of the blest, 

Through an endless existence shall charm thee. 

* The Course of Time. By Robert Pollok, A.M. Edinburgh : Wm. 
Blackwood & Sons. 



THE HIGHEST RANK IN HEAVEN. 



189 



GONE TO PARADISE. 

Charles Wesley. 
Wherefore should I make my moan, 

Xow the darling child is dead ? 
He to rest is early gone, 

He to Paradise is fled! 
I shall go to him, but he 
Never shall return to me. 

God forbids his longer stay, 
God recalls the precious loan! 

He hath taken him away, 
From my bosom to His own. 

Surely what He wills is best; 

Happy in His will I rest. 

Faith cries out, " It is the Lord! 

Let Him do what seems Him good: 
Be Thy holy name adored, 

Take the gift awhile bestowed; 
Take the child, no longer mine; 
Thine he is, for ever Thine!" 



THE HIGHEST RANK IN HEAVEN. 

Ralph Erskine. 

In heavenly choirs a question rose, 
That stirred up strife will never close; 
"What rank of all the ransomed race 
Owes highest praise to Sovereign grace?" 

Babes thither caught from womb and breast 
Claimed right to sing above the rest; 
Because they found the happy shore 
They never saw nor sought before. 
i2 



490 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



EPITAPHS 03 INFANTS. 

Robert Robinson. 
Bold infidelity, tarn pale and die; 
Beneath this stone four infants' ashes lie; 

Say are they lost or saved? 
If death's by sin, they sinned, for they lie here; 
If heaven's by works, in heaven they can't appear; 

Reason, ah! how depraved! 
Revere the Bible's sacred page, the knot's untied, 
They died,, for Adam sinned— they live, for Jesusdiedl 



Wy. Cowper. 
Bewail not much, my parents! me, the prey 
Of ruthless Hades, and sepulchred here. 
An infant, in my fifth scarce fLuish'd year, 
He found all sportive, innocent, and gay. 
Your young Callhiniachus ; and if I knew 
Not many joys, my griefs were also few. 



THO^LAS AlRD. 

The ghstening infant dies in its first laugh. 
Like flower whose fragrance is its epitaph. 

Peace to my Judith in the grave! she died in her young days 
God took her to Himself, and I blessed the Almighty's ways 



William Shakespeare 

Ah, my tender babes.' 
My unblown flowers, new appealing sweets .' 
If yet your gentle souls fly in the air. 
And be not fixed in doom perpetual, 
Hover about me with your airy wings, 
And hear your mother's lamentation! 



EPITAPHS ON INFANTS. 



491 



Mrs. Hemans. 
Thou, that can'st gaze upon thine own fair boy, 
And hear his prayer's low murmur at thy knee, 
And o'er his slumber bend in breathless joy, 
Come to this tomb!— it hath a voice for thee! 
Pray! Thou art blest— ask strength for sorrow's 
Love, deep as thine, lays low its broken flower. 



Hartley Coleridge. 
Yet, sure the babe is in the cradle blest, 
Since God Himself a baby deign'd to be; 
And slept upon a mortal mother's breast, 
And steep'd in baby tears— His Deity. 



O sleep, sweet Infant, for we all must sleep, 
And wake like babes, that we may wake with ] 
"Who watches still His own from harm to keep, 
And o'er them spreads the wings of cherubim. 



R. B. Sheridan. 
Oh Lord! the message from Thy throne has come: 

We hear Thy voice and give them back to Thee! 
With tears, we lay our children in the tomb, 

In faith, their spirits at Thy feet we see. 
There, at the Almighty Father's hand, 

Nearest the throne of living light, 
The choirs of infant Seraphs stand, 

And dazzling shine where all are bright. 



The cup of life just to her lips she press'd, 
Found the taste bitter and declined the rest; 
Then looking upward to the realms of day, 
She gently sighed her little soul away. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



Samuel Tatloe Coleridge. 
Eee Sin could blight or Sorrow fade, 

Death came with friendly care, 
The opening bud to heaven conveyed, 

And bade it blossom there. 

Its balmy lips the infant blest, 
Relaxing from its mother's breast, 

How sweet it heaves the happy sigh 
Of innocent satiety! 

And such my infant's latest sigh! 

0 tell, rude stone, the passer by 
That here the pretty babe doth lie 

Death sang to sleep with lullaby. 

Samuel Wesley, 1692. 
Bexeath, a sleeping infant lies, 

To earth whose ashes lent, 
More glorious shall hereafter rise, 

Though not more innocent. 
When the arch- angel's trump shall blow. 

And souls and bodies join, 
What crowds will wish their lives below 

Had been as short as thine! 




AIRD AND CCGHILX.. PRUfTERS AND STEREOTYPE FOUNDERS. GTASGGV.". 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



THIRD EDITION. 
OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

London. 

British Quarterly Review, July 1, 1867.— "Mr. Logan puts forth an 
enlarged edition of a precious little book, consisting of a selection 
of pieces, both in prose and poetry, from various authors, concerning 
the death of children, which will" speak tenderly, piously, and sooth- 
ingly to the hearts of bereaved parents. 

The Westminster Review. — "We might say a word or two theological 
on the " Words of Comfort," by Wilham Logan ; but prefer to direct 
attention to it, on account of the appropriateness of the collection, 
for its kindly purpose, and especially because of the great beauty of 
t he short pieces of poetry which it contains. 

The Sword and the T rowel— Rev. C. H. Spurgeo^, Editor.— We 
have aforetime mentioned, with much approbation, this well-stored 
treasury of comfortable words. A very valuable compendium of 
the opinions of divines, and a choice collection of the songs of poets. 

Christian Witness. — This book may now be regarded as a standard 
among books for mourners. It is, in fact, unique, and has in its 
own department no fellow or equal. 

Baptist Magazine. — A judicious selection of the thoughts of scores 
of wise and good men, upon a subject of intense interest to thousands 
of parental hearts. 

Pulpit Analyst. — "We recommend this repertory of consolation to 
the attention of our ministerial readers, seeing that they are almost 
daily called upon to cheer the Davids and the Rachels who mourn 
the loss of children. Never, to our knowledge, was the literature of 
infant salvation so extensively collated, or so wisely and carefully 
distributed. This book will, of necessity, become an established 
favourite in all households that have "a vacant chair/' or "one 
dead lamb." 

The Gospel Guide.— The book will be a favourite wheresoever 
the English language is known. 

Nonconformist.— It is a perfect compendium of the thought of the 
best minds on such topics as consolation and infant salvation, and 
will be a real solace to many a mourner. 

The Freeman— Br. Anderson's Introductory Sketch of the " His- 
tory of Infant Salvation" is vigorous and racy. There must be 
tens of thousands of families to which this volume needs but to be 
known to prove a most welcome boon. 

Methodist Recorder.— That a third edition of this precious volume 
should be so soon called for is no more than we expected. It seems 



OPINIONS OF THE FEES3. 



to contain .almost everything on the subject of the safety of little 
children that is to be found in the whole range of literature. 

The English Independent— It is by far the best book in our language 
on its theme. We cordially commend this beautiful volume to 
bereaved parents in their sadness and tears. 

The Independent.— The selected pieces of poetry are most of them 
beautiful gems, sparkling with the light of divine truth. We most 
cordially recommend this book to the notice of our pastors, deacons, 
and visitors. 

London Scotsman.— A valuable "cyclopaedia of sympathy,"' as the 
book has been fitly named. 

The Spectator — This selection of passages bearing on the death of 
little children is very copious, and comprises much both in prose 
and poetry that is well calculated to attain its object. 

The Morning Star. — It is so true to its title, and so admirably 
adapted to comfort houses of mourning when the flowers of earth 
have been transplanted to the heavenly soil, that it cannot fail to be 
a real household treasure. ♦ 

English Provincial. 

Bradford Observer.— This is an old friend with a new face. We 
cordially recommend the book to all mourners. 
_ Bradford Review. — To parents who have been called to part with 
their beloved little ones, this volume will be an invaluable consoler 
and friend, while Christians of every denomination may find in it 
much to interest and instruct. 

Onward (Manchester).— We know of no book that is likely to be 
so welcome to a sorrow- stricken and bereaved parent. 

SCOTLAND— Glasgow. 

North British Daily Mail.— The volume has been compiled with 
great care and judiciousness. In the list of contributors appear the 
names of some of the most eminent writers, dead and living ; and 
many of the pieces, both the prose and the poetry, are among the 
choicest things in the language. 

Glasgoio Herald. — The selections have been made with good taste 
and discrimination. We cordially recommend the volume. 

Morning Journal. — It is almost superfluous to say a word in praiso 
of this truly touching and interesting volume. We give it our 
heartiest recommendation to all, but particularly to those for whom 
it has been especially compiled. 

Glasgoio Citizen. — Mr. Logan has collected innumerable beautiful 
things uttered on the deaths of children, both in prose and verse, 
from the pages of general literature, and formed the whole into a 
volume which must carry infinite solace into the bosom of many an 
anguish-stricken home. 



OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 



Christian Neu>s.-With all our heart we commend it to such as 
either need such words, or would care to send them where they are 
needed. The book is a perfect encyclopaedia on its subject. 

Evanaelical Repository.— It gladdens us to think that a third 
ed^ioTof Mr. L.'s most comfortable " Words of Comfort » has been 
called for. . 

Glasgow Sabbath School Magazine. - The editor has shown industry 
and iuLment, as well as taste and feeling, m the preparation of his 
work, which has reached a third edition, and may be regarded as 
having attained a permanent position. 

Fonvard.—We hail with joy this third and enlarged edition of 
Words of Comfort. On the subject, there is in our language 
nothing to be for a moment compared with this volume. 

Scottish League Journal-The poetry covers 150 pages, and con- 
tains many of the most exquisite gems m the language. Tins 
portion of the compilation is of itself worth the price of the volume 
many times told. May it circulate in thousands. 

Edinburgh. 

The Scotsman.-The industry and general good taste with which 
this little volume has been compiled are worthy of all commendation. 
It is full of consolation for those who sorrow as not without hope. 

Daily Review.— The plan of the work is one which ensures for it 
general acceptance. A sympathising friend could hardly take a 
better wav of expressing condolence, than by presenting a copy ot 
a volume so full of tender feeling and brotherly kindness. 

Scottish Congregational Magazine.— We believe that no such com- 
pilation exists on this subject in any language, and cannot conceive 
of a greater boon to sorrow-stricken parents than to put this volume 
into their hands. 

Scottish Provincial. 
Dundee Advertiser.— This volume is no stranger to us. _ The first 
feature we notice in it is a long, learned, and characteristic essay 
by Dr. Anderson. 

* Dumfries Courier.— A most valuable volume on a mournful sub- 
ject; imparting the fullest consolation which can be given m the 
light of revelation. 

Alloa Advertiser.- -We hesitate not to affirm that it is the very best 
book of the kind in our language, or in any language. 

Kilmarnock Standard.— The book has reached a third edition, and 
we are guilty of no exaggeration in saying, that it well deserves to 
live till it has reached a thirtieth one. Anything more fitted to 
convey rational and Christian comfort to families mourning the 
loss of little children, we cannot imagine. 



OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 



Ham Uton A dvertiser.So more serviceable volume could be placed 
in the hands of sorrowing parents ; and no house of mourning should 
be without the presence of such a proved and invaluable friend. 

Perth Advertiser.— The title is justified by the contents. i; Words 
of Comfort"' they are, and as such we recommend them to all 
bereaved parents. 

Hawick Advertiser.— The present edition is in every respect su- 
perior to its predecessors. 

Kelso Chronicle. — We heartily commend the booh to the attention 
of our readers. 

Northern Ensign. — Worthy of a place in every family. 

Bended: Advertiser.— The book is admirably fitted to cheer with 
the light of Christian consolation hours that have been darkened 
by the early death of dear children. 

Fifeshire Journal.— Parents will find the words thus collected 
words of comfort indeed. A book never answered its title better. 

British Messenger. — It is a unique collection of passages from 
Christian authors (of every variety of special opinions), in proof of 
the universal salvation of deceased infants. The work, as a whole, 
is well fitted to console many a stricken heart. 

John o 1 Groat Journal. — The sweetest and most consolatory utter- 
ances of Christian faith and hope and love are here gathered 
together from the whole range of our highest literature, and there 
is no aspect of affliction by bereavement of children that can present 
itself to the sorrow-stricken heart that is not here reproduced in the 
holy thoughts taught by inspiration, the choicest gems of genius, 
hallowed by sympathy and beautified by love. ... A perfect 
treasury of comfort and consolation. 



Londonderry Standard.— Some years ago we favourably reviewed 
this charming volume. Dr. Anderson contributes a delightful 
Introduction on the " Salvation of Deceased Infants," which we com- 
mend to the attention of every thoughtful reader. ' The great value 
of the work is its intense practical tone. Even as" a literary 
miscellany this volume possesses high attractions; but its great 
commendation is its religious and consolatory adaptation to the 
sympathies in common with the bereavements to which all domestic 
circles are liable: and we accordingly bespeak on its behalf a hearty 
welcome and acceptance amongst all classes of Christian readers. 



Wm. Lloyd Garrison, Boston. U.S.— Accept my hearty thanks for 
the presentation of your admirable work, so fitly entitled "Words 
of Comfort.'' There is great need of its wide circulation, in order 
to comfort the sorrowing, to give light to the despairing, to 
strengthen the weak, and to reconcile those who are suffering 
from bereavement to that great change which, sooner or later, must, 
come to all. — July, 1867. 



WORDS OF COMFORT. 



OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 
London. 

PiEV. Dr. John Campbell,* In the Christian Witness.— Here is 
opened up a fountain of consolation sufficient to meet the case of 
bereaved Christian parents in millions through all the world, to the 
close of ages! The book may be entitled the " Cyclopaedia of 
Sympathy ." 

"Evangelical Magazine.— The book is well suited for those whom 
the benevolent editor seeks to solace and to cheer. His effort has 
our hearty commendation and best wishes. 

Eclectic Review.— Ml the sweetest and most consolatory words m 
poetry and prose about the happy destiny of infants are collected 
together in this volume. 

^Baptist Magazine— A thesaurus of the sentiments of eminent 
divines and poets upon the subject in hand. 

English Presbyterian Magazine.— Just the book to be read and 
appreciated by a disconsolate bereaved parent, 

British and Foreign Evangelical Review.— These words of comfort 
furnish a seasonable and fitting volume to place in the hands of 
bereaved parents. We wish the volume a wide circulation. 

Meliora (A Quarterly Review).— This is the best book upon the 
subject of parental sorrow which we have met with. 

The Patriot— Next to the Holy Book, we can hardly conceive of 
anything more soothing than for those who weep for their children 
to turn over these pages, and have suggested to them the bright and 
beautiful thoughts which the Gospel has taught, which genius has 
shaped, and svmpathy has consecrated. 

British Standard.— His book is quite a treasury. . . We thought 
we knew a little of the stores of English literature, but we were by 
no means prepared for such riches. _ m 

The Nonconformist.— The extracts Mr. Logan has so judiciously 
brought together must surely include everything beautiful and true 
that has been written on parental sorrow and consolation ; and no 
more wise or cheering friend for the hour of bereavement could be 
found than this volume supplies. 

Methodist Record.— -This book will be a precious treasure to parents. 
Many a sorrow-stricken heart will bless the Editor for his work. 

Literary Gazette.— The book is rich in passages of exquisite 
feeling and expression. 

* Dr. Campbell, editor of the British Standard, &c, well-known for 
his invaluable* and succesful efforts, in 1840, to overthrow the Bible mono- 
poly in England, was somewhat suddenly called to his blessed rest and 
reward on the 26th March, 1S67. In one of the last communications we 
received from the great and good man before he retired from the editorial 
chair in Bolt Court, Fleet Street, he referred in the following friendly 
terms to " YTords'of Comfort" :— " I do not think it advisable further to 
encumber the book with external testimonies, or articles of any kind. 
The work is perfect as it is, and you will do well in fact, to look upon it 
as stereotyped."—" He, being dead, yet speaketh." 



OPINIONS OP THE PBESS. 

The Globe .—The poetical extracts are choice, and varied by many 
comparatively unknown poems, but which, once known, will not 
leave the memory and heart. 

^Z he \> .(London).— The title of Mr. Logan's little book 
thoroughly explains its character. . . . As an instance of the 
richness of these words it is enough to say that some are from 
Shakespeare, Milton and Jeremy Taylor, others by 
W 01 d a worth and Coleridge, Tennyson and Longfellow. 

English Provincial. 
Liverpool Allien, -One of the best books of the kind we have seen. 
Leeds i W.— Innumerable "Words of Comfort,'' conveyed in 
supplv choicest P rose and poetry which our literature can 

Manchester Guardian. — The beauty of many of the passa-es 
selected will afford pleasure to readers who have no cause to seek 
for comiort. 

Rochdale Observer.--The best selection of prose and ooetry 
illustrafave of the death of children that we have ever met with. 

Bradford Review.— Mr. Logan has rendered a valuable service not 
only to sorrowing parents, but to Christian truth. 

Staffordshire Sentinel— We cannot speak too highly of the srood 
teste and judgment which have guided the choice of these selections. 
SCOTLAND — Glasgow. 

Glasgow Herald.— It will help to wipe away those tears which we 
suppose, are well-nigh the hottest that gush out eveninthi- ^dand 
soiTowmg world. 

NorOi British Daily Mail— The opening essay, by Dr William 
Anderson, is one of the most strikingly characteristic papers he has 
e_v er written, and this is saying much not only for the writer but for 
tne dooK. 

Morning Journal— There are no finer things in the Etoerlish lan- 
guage than some of those pieces, both in the prose and poetry. 

Glasgow Citizen.— Mr. Logan has. we think, been exceedingly 
happy in the compilation he has made. 

Glasgow Saturday Post.— The extracts have been most judiciously 
made ; tne compiler must have exercised much care in their choice. 

Glasgow Examiner.— We confidently predict for the book a rapid 
and enduring circulation. * 

^ T ! W ^"tS^-T 1 * is ' ^without exception, the most satisfactory 
book of the kind that we have seem 

.Scottish Review. A very precious volume for mourning parents. 

Lvangehcal Repository.— Never before— at least in this country- 
has love intertwined so lovely and so sweet a wreath— a true Immor- 
telle—to lay on the grave of departed childhood. 
. Sottish League Journal— The entire compilation will be found of 
inestimable value to mourning parents. 

Edixbuegh. 

Edinburgh Courant. —Amidst much diversity of expression there is 
a unitv of voice inbreathing words of solace into the mourner's ear 

Scottish Co yregatwnal Magazine.— The book should be in every 
house where tne light of an infant life has been extinguished 



OPI^IOXS OF THE PRESS. 

United Presbyterian Magazine. — The plan and execution of this 
little work are alike most admirable. We cannot exaggerate its 
merits; and rivals, that see it put above and before themselves, 
will frankly acknowledge that this is just as it ought to be. 

Reformed Presbyterian Magazine. — AVe heartily commend it to the 
perusal of those from whom God has in His mysterious providence 
removed "household treasures/' 

Scottish Provincial, etc. 

Eev. George Gileillax in Dundee Advertiser. — Cordially do we 
wish that it may find its way into every room of the vast house of 
mourning, and do there its benevolent mission as a portion of the 
grand ministry by which God is yet to ;, wipo away tears from 
all faces." 

Paisley Herald. — It is truly a golden treasury of comfortable 
words for all who delight in the little ones of society, None can 
resort to it without benefit and delight, and it is eminently fitted to 
comfort and instruct those for whose advantage it is more im- 
mediately designed. 

Greenock Advertiser. — Many a gem here occurs of priceless value 
to the mourning and disconsolate mother. 

Dumfries Herald.— This is a gracious little book, and will be 
highly acceptable to bereaved parents. 

^Dumfries Courier. — The selections, both in prose and verse, are 
admirablv appropriate, and beautiful in thought and expression. 

Berwick Advertiser. — A book of singular utility. TVe know of 
nothing in the whole compass of our religious literature better 
adapted for putting into the hands of bereaved parents. 

Montrose Review. — Hany among the greatest, and most belovech 
among the living and the dead, contribute to this ministry of 
consolation. 

John o Groat Journal.— A repository of comfort and consolation 
rich and varied, and such as must be known to be appreciated. 

Aberdeen Herald.— We heartily recommend the work. 

Alloa Advertiser .—The interest of the book is greatly enhanced by 
the superabundant variety of its authorship. We have read it 
straight forward with much relish. 

Ayr Olserver.-A.Ti admirable volume. Deserves a wide circulation. 

Ayrshire Express— -It is, without doubt, the best and most 
complete work of the kind ever published. 

Hamilton Advertiser.— An invaluable treasury. 

Londonderry Standard.— This is emphatically a book of sterling 
value. 

Montreal Daily Witness.— The volume presents such a variety, 
that it must suit almost every case of parental bereavement. 

The Witness, Halifax, Nova Scotia.— It is full of the richest and 
the best, because the most thorough, scriptural consolation. 

North American (Quarterly) Review. — A richer treasury of con- 
solation in human words could hardly be compiled. 



LONDON: JAMES NISBET & CO. 



WORKS BY THE REV, DR. WM. ANDERSON, GLASGOW. 

Author of 

DISCOURSES (First Series): THE MASS, PENANCE, &c. &c. 



DISCOURSES : Second Series, 6s. 
Contents : — God— our King-Father; The Divine Family; The Theory of 
Affliction and Death; The Perpetuity of the Church; Christ, the Saint's 
Life ; The Heavenly Inheritance preferred ; The Missionary Plea, one 
of Justice; The Oracle Near ; Christian Home ; A Christian — Christ's 
Friend ; Christ, a Master ; Uncharitable Judgments, Judged. 

Loed Brougham. — His Lordship, after having read the Dis- 
course — "Uncharitable Judgments, Judged" — thus writes, in a 
letter dated Dec. 31, 1859, — "It is worthy of aU acceptation." 

The Sun. — We find much in these sermons to demand notice. 

The Standard, Lo?i.— " Eloquent, argumentative— evangelical." 

The Examiner, London. — "A directness of expression often 
reaching to the height of the most finished eloquence." 

British Quarterly Review. — " Great logical clearness, and a singu- 
lar power in simplifying both thought and language, coupled with 
a force of imagination and feeling hardly to^be resisted." 



REGENERATION : Second Edition, 6s. 
The late Rev. Dr. John Brown, Edinburgh. — This is a remark- 
able book, by no common man, on a most important subject. 
That minister must stand very high or very low, inteUectually 
and spiritually, who is not made by it both personally and pro- 
f essionaUy wiser and better. 

The late Rev. Dr. John Campbell, London.— The book, taken 
as a whole, is by far the best exhibition of the subject that has 
yet been presented in the English language. The work of 
Witherspoon is superficiality itself compared with that of An- 
derson, which, for ages to come, will maintain a high place in the 
theology of our country. 

George Gilfillan, Dundee. — Every way worthy of his peculiar 
and powerful mind. It contains a greater mass of racy writing, 
strong argument, and searching examination of the heart, than 
we have met in any religious book we have read for years. 

British Quarterly Review. — There is in this volume, on this 
apparently exhausted topic, an amount of force, of originality, 
and withal of Scripturalness, which justifies us in most earnestly 
commending it to our readers. 

The British and Foreign Quarterly Review. — There is much in this 
volume that we can heartily commend.— April, 1861. 

The Westminster Review. — The views enounced are very clearly 
and logicauy expressed. — April, 1861. 



A THIRD SERIES of Discourses will soon be put to Press; 
to be followed by other Works out of Print. 



EDINBURGH: A. & 0. BLACK; AND ALL BOOKSELLERS. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




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